A Murderous Game

by Paris Patricia

  He smiled. "Okay."

  Abby frowned. "I mean, I'm going to give this my best shot, but, well, my track record's not so great, and I don't want you to be disappointed."

  He raised his head to nip her chin. "I'll try not to be."

  Well, he didn't have to sound so damn blasé. He could at least patronize her a little, couldn't he? He flipped her over and rolled onto his side.

  Propping himself up on one elbow, he looked at her. His gaze traveled over her breasts, dipped when he reached her waist, then continued over her hips and down her legs.

  Abby squirmed. Why was he just looking at her? Why didn't he do something? Say something. Did he like what he saw?

  He lifted several strands of her hair, rubbing them together as if mesmerized. "The day I came to your office for that initial meeting you had your hair up. I kept wondering what it would be like down. I imagined taking it down." He let the strands filter through his fingers.

  He shifted, moving his hand along her neck, down her chest, and over her breast, encircling it. Abby held her breath. His eyes slid up to hers. "I should have known when we met for lunch the next day we'd end up here."

  "Oh yeah?" Abby's insides were turning to mush, but she was afraid to let him see how he affected her. "Are you saying you suspected then that we'd become personally involved?"

  "No. I was convinced we wouldn't. I've never allowed myself to become intimate with a business associate." His hand continued its journey, halting again on her stomach.

  Touch me. God she wanted him to. But he was going so slow she wanted to scream.

  "But I should have known. The signs were all there." When he moved his hand again, she jumped. He looked up and raised a brow.

  Just do it! She screamed in her head. Do it before I chicken out. Do it before the sizzle sours. He was the experienced one here. Talk about reading the signs. What did she have to do, start bucking?

  Gage smiled, apparently oblivious to her silent pleas. His fingers dipped lower, and he circled his thumb over the sensitive nub where all her need had centered.

  Abby jerked, rocked by the intense jolt of pleasure shooting through her. He eased the pressure, palming her, soothing her with his open hand. To her dismay it slid back to her hip, then her arm, back up to her shoulder.

  Oh God, what was he doing? Didn't he know she was ready? She'd never been so ready in her life. Why was he just looking at her now? Oh, no. He'd lost interest but didn't want to hurt her feelings.

  Abby couldn't stand it. She squelched a groan of frustration. She couldn't discern his expression as he studied her face. He didn't want her. She knew it.

  "Bored already?" She tried to sound like it didn't matter one way or the other as her heart slowly started breaking. Why had she allowed this?

  "Terribly," he said.

  She looked away, feeling as if he'd slapped her, but it wasn't fair to blame him. She'd known better. Damn it. She'd known.

  "If I fall asleep," Gage drawled, rubbing his thumb over her nipple, "just poke me, won't you?"

  Abby glanced away, trying to think of a retort to mask the devastating pain. She would never let him know how much it hurt, never. Swallowing the enormous lump in her throat, she looked at him again.

  He was smiling down at her. His eyes were so full of warmth and humor it stunned her. She opened her mouth, but there were no words. He started to laugh. A spurt of joy leaped through her. Balling her fist, she punched him in the shoulder.

  "What?" He laughed harder. "Did I doze off? I could have sworn my eyes were open."

  "I hate you!" She hit him again.

  "No you don't. You love me, remember?"

  "That was mean. You know how nervous I am." She tried not to laugh but failed. She'd brought it on herself.

  Gage grabbed her hand before she could hit him a third time and pulled it down to where the proof of his passion rose high and hard. "Does that feel like you bore me?"

  Abby bit back a joyous grin. "Umm, not particularly."

  He growled and pushed her into the mattress. "God, woman, don't you know how much I want you? I want to bury myself inside you and drive you up against this headboard. I want to start at your toes and lick my way up your gorgeous body until I sink my tongue into your intoxicating mouth. I've wanted to devour you all night."

  Abby couldn't contain the laughter bubbling up inside her. "Then why haven't you?"

  "Because, you infuriating little fool, after dreaming about making love to you for the last month, I was hoping to savor the experience, not rush through it as if it were some damn race to the finish."

  She leaned up and kissed him. "Thank you," she said, her heart swelling with love.

  "You're welcome." He leaned his forehead against hers. "Now, will you please trust me?"

  "I do." She lay back down against the pillow. She wanted to hug herself. She wanted to hug him. She chose the second option. It was much more to her liking. Grinning, she looked at him through half lowered lashes.

  "Well?" She arched a brow.

  Gage frowned. "Well what?"

  "Are you going to start savoring or should I go down to the kitchen for some whipped cream to go with that?"

  He gave a shout of laughter, and wrapping her in his arms, covered her mouth with his. Then he savored. He took his time and he took her with him. He took her into a world of pleasure she never could have imagined. He drugged her, with his words, with his hands, and his mouth. Over and over he took her up until she knew he couldn't take her any higher. But he did—beyond the moon, beyond the stars, to a galaxy where nothing existed but the two of them. He took her to heaven.

  ~~~

  She lay on her side, warm and sated in his arms, exactly where she belonged. His. Gage rested his chin on the top of her head, her hair silken soft against it, the satin skin of her back caressing his chest. He was content. Deeply, exhaustingly, achingly content.

  After the night they'd shared, she could no longer have any doubt about her desirability. He smiled. Twice in one night. Damn, the woman was passionate. He was a sensual man. He enjoyed sex, but it had been so much more with her. He wasn't an overly religious man, but what passed between them had been almost spiritual.

  He breathed her in, the scent of their lovemaking clinging to her. She stirred and he pulled her closer, his hand seeking her breast. She wiggled her hips backward against his stomach, her very shapely little butt teasing his groin. He bit the inside of his cheek as desire rekindled, and he grew hard again. At this rate someone would need to carry him home on a stretcher because he wouldn't have the energy to spit.

  "Are you awake?" Her voice tickled along his nerves with husky morning newness.

  "Umm hmm." He laid his cheek against hers. "Did you know you make little squeaking noises when you sleep?"

  She turned in his arms to face him, and he rolled to his back, pulling her on top of him.

  "Do not," she said with the confidence of the oblivious.

  Gage chuckled. "You do. And when I do this," he said as he brushed his thumb across her nipple, "you make this little grinding motion with your hips. I find it very…arousing."

  "You're so full of it. I don't grind," she insisted, and smiled against his chest.

  He tucked his chin to look at her. "Oh yes, Abby my love, you most definitely grind." He tugged on the hardened tip to prove it. Her eyes widened and he laughed. "Told you."

  She pushed up and rolled off the bed. "I'm going to make some coffee." Grabbing her robe off the chair by the bed, she slipped it on.

  "Don't you want to stick around and see what happens when I lick your navel?"

  Laughing, she started for the door. "If you're done trying to embarrass me," she quipped over her shoulder, "you can join me downstairs for breakfast,"

  "Do you really have whipped cream down there?"

  "No." She laughed and then smiled back at him as she disappeared into the hall.

  Gage got up, spotted his boxers on the floor and pulled them on. When he walked
into the kitchen a few minutes later, Abby stood in front of the counter with her back to him.

  He crossed the floor and slipped his arms around her waist, then looked down. She had Simms's card in her hand.

  "How could I. . . or feel so happy, when—" She closed her eyes.

  "Don't." Gage's good mood disintegrated in a heartbeat. He tightened his arms. "We did nothing wrong."

  She pulled his hands away and, grabbing the coffee carafe, walked to the sink and began filling it with water. He knew by the stiff set of her shoulders she was withdrawing from him. Damned if he'd let her do this to them now.

  He crossed to the refrigerator and pulled it open. Spotting a jar of strawberry jam he took it out. "Look what I found." He held it up. Abby glanced over her shoulder, her eyes dipping to the jar. "Not as good as whipped cream but I'll bet we could do some interesting things with the chunks of strawberry."

  She set the carafe in the sink and turned around. "Stop it." She fisted her hands at her sides. "Don't you understand? Dick's dead. The cops come to my house to tell me my husband's been murdered, and an hour later I'm in bed with another man. Doesn't that seem a little cold to you?"

  "What seems cold," he said, her reference to her ex a bitter slap to his pride, "is that you made love to me all night, and now, after what that bastard did to you, you stand there and refer to him as if he's still your husband."

  The muscles in his jaw flinched. "If all you feel this morning is guilt over betraying your dead husband, maybe last night was a mistake."

  He shoved his fingers through his hair. Christ, what was he doing? He was jealous of a dead man, and if he didn't get a grip, he'd say something he didn't really mean and couldn't take back. "Look, maybe I should just get out of here until you figure out what you want."

  "No!" Her head jerked up. "Please, don't go." She looked at him, tears swimming in her beautiful eyes. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I didn't mean it like that." She blinked then reached up and dashed a hand across her cheek.

  Gage cursed silently. So much for offering her comfort, you ass.

  "It's just…when I saw the detective's card on the counter, it…I don't know. Dick's dead, and I'm a suspect, and—" she glanced up. "I'm sorry, please don't be hurt. A lot's happened in the last twelve hours. I'm confused, that's all, but please don't go." She closed her eyes and swallowed. "I don't want you to go. That's one thing I'm not confused about."

  Gage's anger melted like spring snow. She looked so damn vulnerable. He crossed the floor and set the jam on the counter.

  "You're right." He pulled her into his arms. "A lot's happened." He rubbed her back, making small circles up and down along her spine. "But nothing you should feel guilty about. I'm sorry, too, for just now but not for last night. Do you think after what Dick did, you owe him anything?"

  "No. But I didn't want him dead."

  "Of course you didn't. So stop punishing yourself for it." He lifted her chin and gazed down at her. God help him, he really did love her. "The next couple of weeks aren't going to be easy. There'll be a lot of speculation and not just with the cops. The press will be all over this. Things could get ugly. There may even be accusations that, if you let them, could turn you against me."

  He cradled her face in his hands. "But I promise you, Abby, if you'll trust me, everything will turn out all right. And when all this is over, I'll make you the happiest woman alive."

  "And what happens when you get caught in the crossfire? If the cops find out you stayed here last night, or if we continue seeing each other, you could become a suspect, too."

  Gage rubbed his thumb along her jaw. "First of all, I can guarantee they already know I spent the night. Baker might be a rookie but Simms isn't. And I became a suspect the minute I walked through your front door last night."

  "That's not right. They have no reason to suspect you. If they start harassing you just because of your friendship with me, well, I won't let them." She narrowed her eyes, looking about as dangerous as a day old kitten.

  "What are you going to do?" he asked, ready to haul her against his mouth and drown her with a flood of kisses. He wanted to carry her back upstairs and make love to her again until she cried with pleasure. She looked like she wanted to hit someone. All because she worried the police might consider him a suspect.

  "I don't know." She twisted her mouth into an adorable little scowl. "Something! They just better leave you alone, though." She glanced up and caught him grinning. "Did I say something amusing?"

  Gage took in the determined chin, the flashing emerald eyes, and his heart swelled. "I love you."

  She stared back at him for several seconds, a kaleidoscope of emotion playing across her face. He waited for her to make some quip in an attempt to avoid what neither of them had the power to stop. She laid a hand against his cheek, and in a voice as warm and smooth as fine aged scotch, she sealed her fate. "I love you, too."

  CHAPTER TEN

  "No comment." Abby's hand trembled as she swiped her identification badge through the card reader. What would happen if she just turned around and started swinging? She was angry enough to do it.

  Ever since the press picked up on Dick's murder, they'd made it their life to make her life hell. Wasn't it enough they'd camped out at her townhouse all weekend? Did they have to stalk her at work, too?

  When the phone calls started early Saturday morning and didn't let up, Gage had spirited her away to his penthouse for the remainder of the weekend. The only people who knew where she'd gone were Rachael and Detective Simms, whom Gage had notified so the man didn't think she'd skipped town.

  As she waited for an elevator, Abby closed her eyes and tried to force a calm that had become increasingly more difficult to maintain. When she got to her office, she went straight to the phone and without thinking about what or why, dialed Gage's office.

  It amazed her how quickly she'd come to rely on his support. He'd stayed with her again at the townhouse last night and spent it making her forget everything but him and the wonderful things he did to her body.

  "Hello Grace, this is Abby Carpenter. Is Mr. Faraday in?"

  "He's in a meeting, but I'll buzz him."

  As busy as he was, it would be selfish to interrupt him just because she longed for the soothing balm of his voice.

  "No, don't interrupt him. It's not that important. I can talk to him later."

  "Not unless you want me to lose my job. He instructed me to put any calls from you through immediately."

  Within seconds Gage came on the line. "This is Faraday." Abby was about to apologize for interrupting and tell him she'd talk to him later when he said, "You must be psychic. I was just thinking about you."

  She twirled in her chair and faced the corner window where a shaft of sunlight spilled into the room to play peekaboo with a horde of dust mites.

  "You were not. You were in a meeting. I told Grace I'd call back, but she put me through anyway. I really shouldn't keep you."

  "I most definitely was, and as to the other, you have no choice." He made it all sound very businesslike, and she realized whomever he'd been meeting with must still be in his office.

  "About keeping you?" She smiled into the mouthpiece.

  "Correct. That's non-negotiable. If you try to back out now, I'd be forced to take drastic measures. Now, was there any other reason you called?"

  She didn't want to keep him any longer than she already had. "No, I just wanted to hear your voice," she said honestly. "I don't know how he knew my route, but a reporter was waiting for me two blocks from the office. He ruined the good mood you worked your magic to create so effortlessly this morning."

  She twirled the phone cord around her finger. "I'm just being selfish. I haven't seen you for a whole two hours and I miss you."

  "In that case, it's imperative we get together as soon as possible. I can come by your office around six and see what I can do about reversing whatever damage the bastard caused."

  She laughed. "That would be wonderf
ul. I'll let you get back to your meeting now." Before she could hang up, Gage said, "Aren't you forgetting something?"

  "I love you," she said.

  "Good. We'll explore that in more detail this evening."

  Abby spun back around to hang up the phone. On the edge of her vision she saw someone standing in her office doorway. Her heart lurched against her chest. The eyes that bore into her were cold, and she knew with a dread she couldn't deny he'd been listening in on her conversation.

  Pushing away from the frame, the man strolled into her office and closed the door behind him.

  ~~~

  She had a lovely neck, a slender, graceful neck. He'd fantasized about tasting it. He'd fantasized more, much more. He had to smile. She didn't have a clue. Neither had Dick, poor, misguided Dick.

  He held the power. She didn't realize it yet. She would soon. He enjoyed playing with her, but lately she'd been trying to steal his power. He couldn't let that happen. In the end he knew he'd win. He always did. But if she refused to do what he wanted, he'd have to take their game to the next level.

  "What do you want Billings?"

  "You always were perceptive, weren't you, Abby?" Not perceptive enough, though. Harold smiled to himself as he pulled out the chair in front of her desk and sat down.

  She sat back and looked him directly in the eyes, challenging him with that cool green stare as if she were the one with the control. Stuck-up bitch! She'd always thought she was too good for him. He stretched his fingers, feeling the strength course through his hand, and took comfort in the knowledge that soon, very soon, she'd be at his mercy.

  "It's time you and I had a little talk. You've been a bad girl, Abby, very bad." He looked at her blouse, the place where her breasts pushed out against the silk. The conservative clothes she wore to work were just part of an act. She liked a man touching her, liked it hot. If she didn't, she wouldn't have spread her legs so willingly for Faraday. It shouldn't have surprised him. She was just like every other woman he'd ever known.