“When you don’t come home, won’t she call the station?”
Trudy would miss him all right, but would undoubtedly seek revenge by relieving herself in his favorite shoes. “She, um, won’t think it’s out of the ordinary if I don’t come home.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“I mean…she’s pretty independent.”
She nodded, but was clearly confused.
Such a statement would be confusing to a woman like Faith, who wanted an “old-fashioned, one-man, one-woman thing.” He was quiet, loath to say anything else to enlarge his lies, even if it would make her think better of him. Then he perked up—his fabricated and flawed almost-engagement would be a buffer to keep his attraction for Faith at bay as the night wore on.
She smiled. “You must be excited about getting married.”
He doubted that any man would use the word excited, but something told him not to say that out loud. “Who wouldn’t be?”
She laughed, a sound that made his heart jerk. “Lots of men. My brother Dev, for one, although I have a feeling he’s going to change his mind one of these days.”
“Well,” he said in a tight voice, “I guess if someone like me who isn’t commitment material can change, then there’s hope for any man.”
She was quiet for few seconds, then said, “I guess so. And after seeing your family heirloom, I can understand why you didn’t want to buy a ring. I’m looking forward to appraising the piece—that is, if you still want me to.” She pressed her lips together. “Of course I’ll have it cleaned and sized for you, too.”
“Sized?”
She looked down at her hands, then up again. “I couldn’t help but notice the ring was above-average size, and if Trudy is as petite as you say, then it’ll probably need to be cut down for her finger.” She gave him a little smile and a shrug to match. “If you want to make it a complete surprise, just bring in one of her other rings and we can match the size. It’ll only take a few minutes.”
He studied the total sincerity shining in her eyes. She wanted his “proposal” to be perfect. Had she dreamed of a similar moment in her own life? She shifted her body to face him full-on, unwittingly enabling him to soak in her porcelain-doll beauty. He was struck by the irresistible urge to touch her. “Maybe I should wait until afterward. What if I have the ring sized and she says no?”
“She won’t say no,” she whispered.
He reached forward and cupped his hand around the cool skin of her neck, telling himself he would stop before things got out of hand. She rolled her shoulders in a shudder. “Carter.”
And with the throaty murmur of his name on her lips, his resolve melted. He pulled her to him for a gentle, searching kiss, all the while poised for her to retreat. When she didn’t, he groaned and slanted his mouth against hers hungrily, marveling how quickly the memory of her taste, the contours of her mouth, came rocketing back to him—sweet, warm, eager. She nipped at his tongue and lips, and his body hardened in appreciation.
He lifted his mouth long enough to take a much-needed breath, then dropped kisses along the smooth column of her neck. She moaned and arched into him, plowing her hands into his hair, guiding his mouth along her skin, downward, downward, until he reached the limitation of her V-necked blouse. He dipped his tongued into the seam of her cleavage and was rewarded with a musical sigh. The light floral scent of the perfume she’d dabbed there sent his erection straining against its confinement. He shifted to give himself breathing room, and eased her shoulders down to the carpet. She was the picture of a woman ready to be taken—her dark hair splayed over the red carpet, her wet mouth parted, her eyes hooded and expectant, her breasts rising and falling with each half breath. Knowing his ability to think clearly was rapidly diminishing, Carter leaned over and fingered her hair back from her face.
“Faith,” he murmured, “God knows I’ve tried to resist you, but I’m not superhuman.” He hesitated, then plunged on. “I want to make love to you. Right here, right now.”
Faith’s mind spun with reasons to share her body with him, and reasons not to. She wanted to more than she thought possible, but the man’s heart belonged to another woman. Still, this would be her one and only chance to experience Carter, to know whether they would be as good together as she’d imagined. They had unfinished business, and didn’t she deserve to know everything about the man she loved before he was lost to her forever? Besides, she would be doing Trudy a favor—after Carter got her out of his system and took his vows, no doubt he’d be faithful to the end of his marriage.
“W-what about your leg?”
He gave her a pained smile. “It’s not my leg that needs your sympathy at the moment.”
She laughed in spite of the serious implications of her decision, wondering if he realized that his ability to make her laugh made him even more appealing. Sexy, sexy man. In the security of their accidental cocoon, the outside world and the consequences seemed far, far away. Faith lifted her hand to brush his warm cheek. “Yes, Carter, make love to me. Right here, right now.”
He sank to meet her, and kissed her hard, releasing a pleased guttural sigh into her mouth. Her body flamed to life and she knew that no matter what happened, she’d rather live with regret than to miss out on being intimate with this man. His skillful tongue meshed with hers, teasing, hinting, promising. Her fingers found his shirt buttons and undid them, only to be frustrated by a T-shirt underneath.
He tore his mouth away from hers. “Let’s get rid of these clothes.” He shucked both shirts, then waited for her to do the same. Faith sat up, then slipped out of her suit jacket. Having his eyes upon her made her nervous, but brazen. She pulled the thin silk shell from her waistband and lifted it over her head. At the sight of her lacy shell-pink bra, his lips parted. She stopped, waiting. He pulled off his boots, then shed his pants and socks. His long, athletic-style briefs molded his straining erection.
Light-headed at the knowledge that his arousal was destined to fill her, she shimmied out of her skirt and panty hose, thinking if help arrived at this moment, their rescuers would simply have to wait outside until this adventure ended. When she’d removed all but her undergarments, she leaned back on her hands, arching her back for his benefit, reveling in a moment of pure feminine satisfaction that her bra and panties matched and were drop-jaw sexy. Carter emitted a low growl, then joined her on the springy carpet.
Music floated above them, soulful horns and a moody bass. They lay facing each other, rubbing sex against sex, creating a sensual friction. Heat and moisture pooled between her thighs and she longed for no barriers between their skin. He slid his hand into the waistband of her panties and massaged her hips, pressing his fingers into secret flesh. She gasped against his neck, and undulated alternately against his fingers and his monster erection. She slipped her hands inside his briefs and clutched at his hips in kind, then reached lower to stroke the sensitive origin of his manhood. His breathing became more ragged and he twitched in response to her touch.
“Does it hurt?” she asked, still concerned about his healing leg.
“No,” he rasped, then pushed her panties down. She wriggled out of the lacy garment, then tugged at his briefs, undressing him as gently as possible. The wound on his leg was angry and jagged, and her heart squeezed at the pain he had endured. She lifted her gaze and took in the whole of him slowly enough to burn the impression into her mind. Clothed, Carter was an impressive physical specimen, but naked… She sighed in appreciation and curled her fingers around his thick, silky sex. He groaned like a wounded man, and oozed warm, slick fluid. “Go slow, Faith—I can’t stand this much longer.”
When he stroked the dark nest at the juncture of her thighs, she parted her knees shamelessly. He dipped his finger into her wet folds and murmured his pleasure at her readiness. She tensed at the thrilling currents that made her limbs loose and her heart gallop. He found the tiny lever of her desire and tormented it with his fingers until she clutched at his back. A delicious, climbing w
armth collected in her muscles. She moaned as a wave of desire began to overtake her. He nipped at her ear and coaxed her to a shuddering climax against his hand.
“Carter, yes…yes…Carter.” She loved him for making her feel so abandoned.
She loved him, period.
She writhed against him, and he allowed her to recover slowly, kissing her neck and shoulders. Then he reached for his pants and removed a condom from his wallet. Even through her sensual haze, the irony of the foil packet being the same brand of which she still had a full box was not lost on her. He sheathed himself, then rolled onto his back, taking her with him to straddle his waist. Nervousness flashed through her that she could accommodate him satisfactorily, that she could please him as much as he’d pleased her. She dragged her fingernails down his chest, toying with his dark, flat nipples and the patch of black hair that narrowed before traveling over his flat stomach.
“I want to see you,” he said, then reached up and lifted her breasts from the confinement of her bra cups without removing the flimsy garment. The globes of her breasts spilled over and her nipples jutted into the cool air. “Wonderful.” He covered her breasts with his hands, groaning and prodding her lower back with his erection.
Electric jolts shot through her as he thumbed her nipples, tweaking them to full attention. She laid her head back and rolled her shoulders, feeling beautiful and appreciated. Wanting him to feel equally satisfied, she planted her hands on his chest and lifted her hips, then lowered herself onto the tip of his sex, teasing, testing.
He gasped and pulled her forward to take one of her nipples into his mouth, flicking the sensitive round with his tongue. She moaned and undulated down his shaft another inch before retreating, feeling like one long live wire, every nerve ending alive and pulsing.
After a few seconds of mutual sweet torture, a muted growl tore from Carter’s throat. He clasped her hips with both hands and impaled her with his entire length. The sudden and complete fullness stole the breath from her lungs, and for a few seconds she was unable to move. He was still, his teeth clenched, allowing her to adjust. When she could no longer be still, she began to move up and down, releasing him, then taking him into her body again with exaggerated slowness.
They locked gazes, and her doubts about whether her technique felt as amazing to him as it did to her were erased when he breathed her name with reverence. She smiled, feeling heady with sexual control, but her smugness dissolved when she felt another orgasm begin to flower in her womb. At his urging, her rhythm increased.
“Come on, sweetheart, let me hear you.” He tensed beneath her.
The sweet but searing hum deep inside her surged in intensity…unbearable ecstasy.
“Hurry, sweetheart…hurry.”
The sound of his hoarse urgency sent her over the edge. She cried out his name and contracted around his rigid maleness, but realized pure fulfillment when his muscles bunched and he climaxed with her. “Faith…Faith…Faith.”
Once the spasms had subsided, she lowered herself to his chest, weak with satisfaction. His arms came around her back, stroking her shoulder blades to ward off the room’s chill. When questions and qualms threatened to descend, she banished them to the far corners of her mind. They were together now, and now was all that mattered. At least for now. With her cheek pressed against the coarse hair on his chest, she listened to his heartbeat and breathing return to normal. After a few minutes she thought he had dozed, but he began to stroke her hair. “That was…amazing.”
She was afraid to speak because suddenly she was feeling “susceptible.” She’d promised herself she wouldn’t expect his feelings to change suddenly just because they were good together…just because they shared a powerful physical connection…just because she cared enough for both of them. But a small part of her had hoped that he would undergo some sort of transformation, that he would realize he couldn’t truly love one woman and have this kind of experience with another woman.
Could he? He’d said that Trudy was “independent.” Was she somewhere tonight expressing her own independence? Did they have an open relationship? She swallowed hard, giving in to a few seconds of panic that she might have misjudged his character so terribly.
She pushed up and gingerly disengaged their bodies. He grunted, but he didn’t protest when she pulled away. She shivered in the cold air and crawled around, gathering her clothes. Her knees stung and she realized with mortification that she had carpet burns. She breathed deeply, trying to calm her pulse. She wasn’t a coed; their lovemaking aftermath needn’t be a dramatic episode. They were consenting adults who’d practiced safe sex. They would simply get dressed and maybe try to sleep and wait for help to arrive in the morning and…pretend as if nothing had happened.
She stood on wobbly legs to don her lacy underwear, but the sight of Carter, big and bare, rising up to reach for his clothes sent a dizzying array of emotions to her empty stomach: desire, satisfaction, sadness. She turned her back to him and stepped into the pink panties, but her gaze landed on the blue ring box from Tiffany’s sitting on the file cabinet. As she adjusted the scalloped waistband of her frilly underthings, Faith added guilt to the disturbing emotional soup.
Yes, they would simply pretend as if nothing had happened.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Monday afternoon, February 10, 2003
“AND THEN WHAT HAPPENED?” the wide-eyed newspaper reporter asked. He was young, and a feature on the bungled burglary of the Valentino diamond would be a great human-interest scoop for the week of Valentine’s Day.
Faith shifted on the stool at The Red Bean, took a drink from her coffee mug, and let Jamie take over. She was tired of repeating the details, but her friend was still caught up in the drama.
Jamie leaned forward and paused for effect. “Then when I came in early Sunday to tackle some paperwork and found the lights on and the door open to The Diamond Mine, I knew something was wrong. I called the police and when Faith didn’t answer her home phone, I called her brother. When the police arrived, we opened the vault to find Faith and Lieutenant Grayson alive and well, thank God.”
Poor Jamie—she had been frightened out of her wits. Faith smiled into her coffee. It was a good thing that Dev had been there to comfort her.
“Ms. Sherman, what was it like to spend the night in a locked vault?”
Faith felt Jamie’s curious gaze on her as well as the man’s. Her friend had done everything but come out and ask her if she and Carter had “done it.” Had Jamie picked up on the faint scent of sex in the air and seen her rug-burned knees, or was it perhaps the telltale look of remorse on her face? Regardless, Faith had decided to keep mum about her tryst with Carter.
“The temperature was a little cold, but I knew we were safe, so I didn’t worry.”
The man pushed up his glasses. “How did you keep warm?”
Faith hesitated and glanced at Jamie, who had one red eyebrow arched. “We, um, tried to move around as much as possible.”
“Calisthenics?”
“Er, yes.”
“And the Valentino diamond was in the vault with you all night?”
“That’s right.”
“Tell me about the legend surrounding the stone.”
Faith repeated the story from the brochure.
“And have you ever seen the two hearts that are supposedly suspended in the Valentino diamond?”
She ran her finger around the rim of her cup, suddenly ill at ease. “Well…I did see a shadow in the stone…that resembled…two hearts intertwined.”
“You never told me,” Jamie said, her tone mildly accusing.
“It was right after the robbery,” Faith said. “In the vault, when I was making sure the diamond was okay.” She smiled sheepishly. “More likely it was my imagination, or a trick of the light.” Or her emotional state.
The reporter was scribbling away. “Where is the diamond now?”
“Understandably, the company that owns the Valentino diamond took it back for a
full inspection.”
Of course that meant that Carter was no longer needed, which was best, considering what had happened between them. Amid the hoopla and milling uniforms Sunday, she had performed some online research, phoned a couple of trusted gemologist associates, and determined that his family heirloom was indeed an original Tiffany’s six-prong setting, and worth the hefty sum that she’d surmised. She’d delivered the good news and returned the ring to him, expertly cleaned and polished, before he left that afternoon. The moment had been awkward, so she’d thanked him for…everything, and shaken his hand.
“Good luck on Friday,” she’d said.
He’d frowned. “Friday?”
“Valentine’s Day,” she’d reminded him.
“Oh. Right.”
“Ms. Sherman?”
She jerked her attention back to the moment and to the reporter. “I’m sorry—what were you saying?”
“I asked what happened to the jewel thief.”
“Ben Sills is in jail, waiting to be arraigned. Apparently he’d been waiting for an opportunity to steal the diamond. Chicago afforded him access to an international airport—the police found fake identification and a plane ticket to South America on him.”
“I understand he’s being charged with attempted armed robbery and attempted murder.”
“That’s right.”
He frowned. “That’s not a very romantic wrap-up. I don’t suppose you and—” he consulted his pad “—Lieutenant Grayson fell in love while you were in the vault all night?” He grinned, hopeful.
Faith bristled and refused to look in Jamie’s direction. “No, I don’t suppose we did.”
The man’s shoulders fell. “Too bad. Would’ve made for a happier ending to the story.”
CARTER STRUGGLED to keep the frustration out of his voice. “But, Captain, my doctor just released me to return to work.” He shook a sheet of yellow paper as if the man on the other end of the phone could see it. “I have the release form in my hand.”
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