Sultry

by Mary Lynn Baxter

  He kissed her then, a deep soul-kiss that almost stopped her heart, not to mention what it did to the rest of her body. Fire pooled between her legs just as he withdrew his mouth and pulled back.

  Her eyes widened in surprise as his features suddenly changed from passion to anger.

  “When this is all resolved, we’re going to start all over.”

  She intended to ask what he meant by that, but when his mouth found hers again, all rational thought fled.

  She clung to him, taking refuge in his lips and tongue as they probed and sucked deeper than ever.

  “Thanks for seeing me.”

  Dr. Abe Mason nodded his head, gesturing for Mitch to sit down. Mitch did so, but wasn’t sure how long he could stay there. He was so uptight, he felt every nerve in his body.

  “What choice did I have?”

  Although the tone of his voice was neutral, Mitch sensed that Dr. Mason was uptight, as well, which was not a good sign. However, he would reserve judgment until he heard what the good doctor had to say.

  He had left Lindsay in her hiding place, though grudgingly. He’d wanted to make love to her, which hadn’t been possible. After having had a miscarriage, she had been too fragile physically and mentally.

  He had just held her. And while he’d taken a hard-on with him, he didn’t regret his decision.

  Lindsay had needed compassion, not passion. For once he’d done something unselfish, even if it made him uncomfortable in the process.

  “You’re here about the blood test, I take it,” Dr. Mason said, relieving the silence.

  “That’s right,” Mitch said without mincing words.

  “It was the medicine.”

  Mitch tensed. “What about it?”

  “It was the wrong drug.”

  Mitch wasn’t surprised by what the doctor told him. Still, it kicked him in the gut. Again. Hard. So hard, he flinched visibly. “What the hell does that mean?”

  The doctor drew an unsteady breath. “It means that the packet was mislabeled. Instead of getting the anti-nausea drug I prescribed, she took a drug that is designed to cause a miscarriage.”

  “Jesus.”

  “It’s a drug that’s illegal in the States but that’s widely used in Europe.”

  “You’re one hundred percent sure about that?” Mitch asked, his tone rigid as iron.

  “It causes a woman’s progesterone level to decrease drastically, which shows up in the bloodstream.”

  When Mitch remained quiet, he added, “We’ve already started an investigation into the matter.”

  “How about the police? Have you brought them in?”

  “Yes.”

  Mitch rose, though his legs felt as if they had a thousand-pound anvil tied to them, holding them in place. He extended his hand. “Thanks, Doctor. I’ll be in touch.”

  Dr. Mason gave him a strange look. “Are you all right?” Once he asked that question, he cleared his throat and added in an apologetic tone, “Sorry. Of course you’re not all right. How could you be, when you found out your baby didn’t have to die.”

  Mitch thought he would choke on the words before he got them out, fury laced with unbelievable pain raging inside him. “And I’m depending on you to find out who’s responsible.”

  He wasn’t, of course. He had flat-out lied to the doctor. He aimed to do his own investigating, and he was already a jump ahead. Lindsay’s brother was a bona fide member of the guilty party.

  Mitch had decided not to share that tidbit with the doctor. He was holding that trump card for his own use. Sure, the hospital would investigate, but he had his doubts that anything would be linked to Dr. Timothy Newman.

  Hard cash had a way of greasing the right palms, and Cooper Newman certainly had enough cash and influence in town to know which palms to grease.

  Mitch gripped the steering wheel a few minutes later. Only when he heard his knuckles pop did he loosen his hold. His unborn child was dead.

  That made the tragedy personal, and he intended to go for the jugular.

  Everything inside him rebelled at what he was about to do. But the way he looked at it, he no longer had a choice. Too much was at stake. Holding on to his dream had to take a back seat to settling this score. What damage his decision would do to his and Lindsay’s future remained an unknown factor. And while that figuratively brought him to his knees, he couldn’t back down. If he didn’t go with his conscience, he wouldn’t be fit to live with.

  Picking up his cell phone, he punched out a number. Seconds later, he muttered, “Okay, you win, but only if it’s favor for favor.”

  Thirty-One

  Something had finally gone right. For that, Lindsay was grateful. The site for the prototype facility had been finalized, and the money to start the project was in the bank. In fact, construction was due to begin today. She had just returned from the meeting where the green light had been given to the contractor.

  Now that the dream had become a reality, the next phase of hard work was about to begin—finding the right staff, gathering furniture and supplies, screening applicants. But as in every step thus far, she’d had the best of help in volunteers who were as enthusiastic as she was to see the project through to the end.

  Still, she had to stay on top of things, which was good, in that it gave her stability, stopped the ground from shifting so badly beneath her feet. Within the past week, her life had been turned upside down yet again. Not only was she trying to come to grips with the loss of her unborn child, but she had her future to deal with, as well.

  Her relationship with Mitch had to be addressed and dealt with. She couldn’t continue to live in limbo any longer, especially where her heart was involved.

  Since their marriage was no longer a secret, she didn’t have to sneak around to see him anymore. If she so desired, she could waltz right up to his front door and knock.

  And that was exactly what she intended to do this evening, after he finished work for the day. Peering at her watch, Lindsay noticed she didn’t have long to wait. Her meeting had taken most of the day.

  Now thoughts of Mitch took precedence over everything else. What if he…? No. She wouldn’t think like that, not after their conversation the other day. She would rather think he cared enough to want to make their marriage into a real one, the same way she did.

  Suddenly a chill darted through her, reminding her again how little she knew about the man who had fathered her child and whom she called her husband.

  Was he always going to be a question she couldn’t answer?

  Lindsay shivered visibly, then forced herself not to dwell on the dark side. But then, she’d been living in the dark for so much of her adult life that old habits were hard to break. Mitch had touched her life with sunlight. Having felt that warmth, she didn’t ever want to return to that prison of darkness that had held her captive.

  Instead she wanted to spend the rest of her life with Mitch, learning who and what he was. Exciting? Absolutely. In fact, she could hardly wait for him to return to his cottage.

  Holding that thought, Lindsay changed her designer suit for a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. She had just slipped into some sandals when it occurred to her to do a repeat performance of their first time alone. She would have Dolly pack another picnic basket—this time with just fruit, cheese and wine.

  Almost giddy with anticipation, Lindsay dashed downstairs, only to pull up short. Her daddy was coming toward her. On seeing her, Cooper also stopped abruptly, his brows knitting together in a frown.

  Since her loss of the baby, she hadn’t seen much of him. She knew that hadn’t been accidental. It was as if they had both planned it that way.

  “Hello, Daddy,” she said, feeling some of that same awkwardness she’d felt after her mother had died.

  “We have to talk,” he said rather brusquely.

  “I know.”

  “But now’s not a good time for me.”

  Lindsay breathed a silent sigh of relief. She hadn’t wanted anything to hamper he
r efforts in going to Mitch. It appeared as if that wasn’t going to happen.

  However, that conversation she’d overheard between him and Peter had created a wound inside her—a wound that continued to fester. And while she was tempted to blurt out her anger and resentment on the spot, she didn’t, especially with Daddy in a dither to leave.

  She wasn’t prepared to settle for anything less than his undivided attention.

  “I’m on my way out the door to a dinner engagement,” Cooper added, when she didn’t respond.

  “I’ll see you later, then,” she said, not looking at him.

  “Oh, by the way, I expect you to see a lawyer and start divorce proceedings immediately.”

  Though his words cut to the quick, Lindsay didn’t dare give him the satisfaction of knowing that. She kept on walking, though she held her breath until she heard the front door slam.

  “Lord amercy, child, you look plumb sick,” Dolly said when Lindsay crossed the threshold into the kitchen.

  “I am.”

  Dolly’s lips curved down. “I heard you and your daddy.”

  “How could you not?”

  “I’m sure he didn’t mean to hurt you,” Dolly said in a soft tone.

  “Well, he has.”

  “Oh, honey chil’, what a mess. I wish there was something I could do.”

  “There is. Pack me a picnic basket, please.”

  When Lindsay tapped on his door, she was both excited and frightened. Don’t be silly, she told herself. He was her husband, for heaven’s sake.

  Still, she waited with suspended breath for a response. When none was forthcoming, she frowned, then eased open the door. She knew he was there, though she didn’t see him. His scent filled the air. Was he in the shower? Her stomach went a little crazy. If so, maybe she should join him.

  For a moment, just the thought of doing something so brazen made her dizzy, but then she began to wonder how he would react. Realizing she was holding on to the picnic basket for dear life, she crossed to the table and put it down. She turned, and that was when she saw him.

  “Oh,” she gasped, throwing her hand up to her chest, feeling her face suffuse with color. “You scared me.”

  He stiffened visibly in turn. “Anything wrong?”

  “Does anything have to be wrong,” she asked in a stilted tone, “for me to come here?”

  Though his expression was unreadable in the waning sunlight, he didn’t seem glad to see her. His big body remained taut, as did his voice. Her spirits took a dive, along with her confidence.

  “You’re not overjoyed to see me.” It was a flat statement of fact.

  Mitch cleared his throat, then said with obvious impatience, “You know better than that.”

  “Do I?”

  “Yes, dammit.”

  An awkward silence descended over the room. At the moment he was more of a stranger than ever. What was going on? Had he crossed paths with her daddy, after all? Had they duked it out? Was that why he was so uptight?

  She voiced her thoughts. “Did you run into Daddy?”

  “No, why?”

  Another feeling of relief surged through her. “Uh, just wondering.”

  “Are you okay?”

  He crossed deeper into the room but kept his distance. Her spirits dropped even lower, though she tried not to let him know that. A person could only stand so much humiliation; she’d already received her quota for the day.

  Struggling for a clear breath, she turned her back and headed toward the door.

  “Hey, where are you going?”

  She turned, her chest constricting with anger. “Back where I came from.”

  “I saw the basket on the table,” he said.

  She smiled without warmth. “Stupid me. I thought you might enjoy my company and a little something to eat, to boot.” Her voice faltered, but she would be damned if she’d cry. Besides, she didn’t think she had any more tears left.

  Mitch’s mouth worked, and his eyes darkened with an emotion she couldn’t identify. Was it need? This time it was her heart that faltered.

  “I don’t want you to go,” he said thickly.

  Then why don’t you hold me and kiss me? she wanted to cry. But pride kept her from doing anything other than standing mute and continuing to stare at him through naked eyes.

  “What’s going on, Mitch?” she finally asked in a soft, shaky tone.

  Wordlessly, he made his way to the bedside table, opened it and withdrew the gun. Her eyes widened, and she sucked in her breath and held it while he jammed the weapon down into the waistband of his jeans.

  “I don’t understand!” she cried at last.

  He closed the distance between them, grabbed her and kissed her hard and long. Only after they were both panting did he let her go and step back.

  “There’s something I should’ve told you right off, but I didn’t.”

  “What?” She could barely force the word out.

  “I used to work for the FBI.”

  She gave him an incredulous look. “The FBI?”

  He nodded.

  “You’re an FBI agent?”

  “Ex,” he said harshly.

  She shook her head violently, as if that gesture would help clear it. “Then why do you still have that…gun?”

  “Remember that visitor I had the other night?”

  “Yes.”

  “It was my ex-boss, Ken Avery. He’s after me to do a special job for them.”

  “God, Mitch.” She spread her hands, trying to find the words to express what was going on inside her.

  “I know I should’ve told you, only—” He broke off, then added, “Hell, I have no excuse.”

  “This is crazy!”

  “I’m going to help them out, but only because they’re helping me in return.”

  Not only was Lindsay stunned and perplexed, but her mind was reeling, as well. How could she not have known her husband was a government cop? How could her daddy not have known? Was it because he had never seen Mitch as a threat? That must have been the case; otherwise, Cooper would have had him investigated in a heartbeat.

  In her own defense, there was no way she could have known unless he chose to tell her, which he hadn’t. Now she knew why she’d always thought he had a dangerous side to him.

  Her eyes targeted the gun and stayed there. Had he ever killed anyone?

  “Lindsay, after this is over, we’ll be together.”

  She heard the desperation in his tone—a desperation that matched her own, but for different reasons. “After what’s over?” she finally managed to choke out, still staring at him through wide eyes. “The job you’re doing for them?”

  “That and the investigation of your brother.”

  If he had pointed that pistol at her and cocked the hammer, she couldn’t have been more shocked. Or outraged.

  “What?” she shrieked.

  “Tim’s dealing in black market prescription drugs for the sole purpose of turning a fast buck.”

  “What!” she shrieked again. “But how…I mean—” She couldn’t complete the sentence. The words simply couldn’t pass the lump in her throat.

  “Because of that greed, we lost our baby.”

  “That’s crazy! You’re crazy if you think that.”

  “Wait’ll you hear the facts, then make your judgment.”

  Lindsay almost strangled on her fury. “I don’t believe a word you’ve said. Tim may be many things, but he isn’t a criminal.”

  “If that’s the case, then he has nothing to fear from me or the law.” Mitch’s tone was unyielding.

  Lindsay blinked, feeling as if she was outside herself looking in. “The law? You can’t be serious.”

  “Oh, I’m serious,” he said in the deadliest of tones, looking beyond her into the distance, his body rigid. “Trust me on that.”

  Thirty-Two

  Lindsay walked out on the balcony, then back inside. She couldn’t be still in mind or body. She felt as if something live was crawli
ng through her brain and over her flesh.

  Shivering, she grabbed the railing and looked off into the distance, chewing on her lower lip, her thoughts locking on Cooper. She couldn’t imagine what her daddy would do when he found out who Mitch was, and that he had a vendetta against Tim.

  The crawling sensation worsened. Lindsay let go of the steel railing and flung her arms across her chest. But mentally or physically, there was no way to protect herself against the blowup that was sure to come.

  Once Mitch had dropped his verbal bombs at the cottage, the true confession she’d been prepared to share with him had been destroyed in the blast.

  She had moved in a daze, like the walking wounded, toward his front door.

  “Please,” he’d said hoarsely. “Don’t go.”

  She had swung around, her features pinched with sadness. “Under the circumstances, I think it’s best.”

  He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “It was my baby, too, Lindsay.”

  “I know,” she whispered, beginning to tremble. “But you’re wrong about Tim.”

  “That remains to be seen. But what if we don’t talk about him right now?”

  “That doesn’t mean I can stop thinking about the things you said—your accusations.” She paused, and a pregnant silence fell between them. “And what about your little secret, the fact that you’re an FBI agent?”

  “Was.”

  “Oh, please.”

  “Lindsay, I want you in my life.”

  “You have a strange way of showing that,” she said with a tremor.

  “Don’t you want to know what happened to your—our baby?”

  She drew back as if he’d slapped her. “I know what happened. Nature took its course, and while I’m devastated over that, I’m not looking for a scapegoat like you are.”

  “That’s not what I’m doing. You—”

  “Save it, Mitch. I’ve heard enough. I’m going home.”

  That time he hadn’t tried to stop her. He had merely looked at her through pain-filled eyes. Because she felt as if she were on the rack, being pulled both ways, she hesitated. She loved him, but she loved her family, too.

  And she trusted them. From the get-go, Mitch had been anything but honest with her. How could she trust him? It had been that question—minus an answer—that had finally sent her out the door without a backward glance.