The Quiet Seduction

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The Quiet Seduction Page 14

by Dixie Browning


  “If I get any hotter,” he said through clenched teeth, “we’re going to be setting off your smoke detectors. Ellen—” Hanging onto control by a thread, he covered her hands with his own. “This isn’t going to work.”

  “It said right there on the tube that it was great for relaxing stiffness, but you’re right—it’s not working. D’you think I should ask for my money back?”

  His short burst of laughter turned into a groan, and then both of them passed beyond the point of words.

  Abruptly reversing their position, Spence knelt over her, parting her thighs with hands that were far from steady. In the dim glow of the bedside lamp, he studied her openly, first reverently touching her breasts, cupping them, stroking the hardened tips. By then, all thought of teasing was past; the only reality was this throbbing obsession, this urgent demand for completion.

  Wait! Make it last! He lowered himself carefully until he was just touching her, forcing himself to hold back until she was ready.

  Clasping him by the waist, she tried to bring him inside her. “Now, now, please!”

  Yes! Thrusting slowly, withdrawing, thrusting again, he managed to hold back another split second as the pulsating tension built to explosive dimensions. She moaned, her short nails biting convulsively into his buttocks. Slowly, he thrust again and this time his control snapped. Mentholated heat eddied around them, mingled with the intoxicating scent of sex as she lifted her hips and eagerly met each thrust. The exquisite, pulsating pleasure increased, tightening around them, binding them together, as clinging, gripping, panting, they rode out the storm together, stroke by powerful stroke.

  Both bodies bathed in sweat, she convulsed around him, triggering his own release. Dimly he was aware of the sound of the soft cascading cries that fell like a benediction around them as they collapsed in a tangle of damp, throbbing flesh.

  Not until much later did it occur to Spence that he hadn’t used protection. He hoped she was taking something, but it was his responsibility. I’ll be here, he vowed silently. Whatever it takes, I’ll be here for you.

  Ellen was gone when he awoke. Dressing hastily despite soreness in a few muscles that hadn’t been sore yesterday, Spence hurried out to the barn. He had to see her—had to know that she was all right with what had happened. Needed to tell her the full truth, especially now.

  “I think Moxie’s going into labor,” she announced, meeting him halfway between barn and house. “I’m going inside to call the vet to see if there’s anything in particular I need to watch for.”

  “It’s a pretty natural process. Wild horses have been doing it for thousands of years.”

  She shot him a dirty look. “My husband didn’t spend his last penny to buy a bunch of wild horses. If anything happens to Moxie, it’s more than an investment, it’s Pete’s future.”

  Message received. Last night was not to be mentioned. From now until that horse dropped her foal, whatever he had to tell her—whatever was between the two of them—was on hold.

  Fine. He could live with that. “Go call, I’ll baby-sit the mare. Where’s Pete?”

  “He’s in with her. I know he should be in school, but for today, I think this is more important.”

  “Biology lesson.”

  “Whatever,” she said, not meeting his eyes as she strode past him.

  Damn it, he should never have taken her to bed. As if things weren’t complicated enough, now he couldn’t look at her without remembering—without wanting her again. Just how long, he wondered, did it take for a man to get so screwed up there was no way back? When had his priorities undergone a shift that would’ve registered on any seismograph?

  Pete was seated in a pile of clean straw just outside the mare’s stall. The other horses had been led outside. “Know what? Moxie’s gonna have her baby. Mom said I could stay and help, but don’t go in there, ’cause she’s nervous. See, she’s never done it before and she might forget I’m her friend and kick me.”

  Gingerly, Spence lowered himself to sit beside the boy. “Looks like you’ve pretty much got everything under control,” he observed. The mare was moving around, but didn’t seem overly agitated.

  For several minutes neither of them spoke. Then Pete said, “Did I tell you Mr. Ludlum used to play baseball? Did you ever play baseball?” And then he caught himself and added, “Oh, yeah. I forgot your am-a-nesia.”

  Spence didn’t bother to correct him. Telling Ellen was going to be tough enough. Telling Pete that he had another life, a demanding career that required his presence now more than ever, was going to be even tougher.

  “I could show you how to pitch a curve ball if you want,” Pete offered. “I’m pretty good.”

  “You got a deal, but let’s wait until after Moxie does her thing, okay? Your mama might need us.”

  “Yeah, she pro’ly does. I help her a lot, but it’s not like when Mr. Caster was here. Or my dad.”

  No, it wasn’t like that, Spence told himself. It would never be like that. He was a district attorney in the middle of the fight of his life—possible even for his life. And while there was something increasingly seductive about Ellen’s small ranch, about the woman herself, about the boy, about the hard, satisfying work and the easygoing camaraderie—not to mention what had happened last night—he had places to go. People to see. And no idea of how long it would all take.

  The two men met on the course at the Lone Star Country Club near the ninth hole tee. Flynt Carson lifted his club, took a few practice swings, then lowered it again. “What’ve you found out?”

  “About which, Spence or Luke?”

  “Both. Either.”

  Tyler scratched his nose. “Luke’s situation is out of our hands pending further intelligence. The military’s in on it now. They’ll get word out as soon as they get a lead. As for Spence, have you considered the possibility of an alien abduction? Damn it, I’ve combed every square inch of interstate between his apartment and the state pen, fanning out several miles on both sides. We’re starting now on the secondary roads. There’s a lot of open farm country between Laredo and Corpus, but I have to tell you, it doesn’t look good. If he’s alive we’d have heard from him.”

  Removing his sunglasses, Flynt wiped the lenses on the sleeve of his knit shirt. “Maybe. Maybe not. If he had a reason to drop out of sight…”

  “And let Del Brio move Joe Ed Malone into his slot? I don’t think so.”

  “You got any better ideas?”

  “I’m thinking, I’m thinking. Look, it’s a straight shot on the interstate, but we know now from his credit card records that he took the long route. Why?”

  Flynt shrugged. “You know Spence. He always claimed he did some of his clearest thinking while he was driving. Reflexes on automatic, mind clear to work on whatever’s on the agenda.”

  “Yeah, well, we both know he was hoping to get Black to turn state’s evidence,” Tyler said. “Trouble is, he never made it that far. I’ve got a nasty feeling his health might be endangered if we don’t find him fast. I had to barter my soul to keep that reporter from making a major deal out of his disappearance—told him something big was about to bust wide open and promised him an exclusive.”

  “Him and how many others?”

  “Four…maybe it was five. Look, we both know Del Brio’s had his men out beating the bushes. If they find him first…”

  Flynt shook his head slowly. “He wouldn’t stand a chance now that the switch has been made. We can tell the attorney general that Joe Ed Malone is crooked as a snake, but without solid evidence, his hands are tied.”

  “For all we know, the attorney general’s been bought and paid for, too.”

  Flynt looked up sharply. “You know something I don’t?”

  “He’s clean as far as I know, but that’s just it. There’s too much we don’t know.”

  “We do know this much, though—without evidence, we’re nowhere.”

  Tyler squinted against the low angle of the December sun. “What we need is inc
ontrovertible proof. And if anyone can come up with that, it’s Spence. I’m pretty sure he had almost enough when he disappeared. I suspect his office was gone over with a fine-tooth comb, computers and all, but whether or not anything was found, we don’t know.”

  “Which takes us back to the starting line. Where the hell is he? I’ve checked every morgue and hospital between Laredo, Corpus and Brownsville. We can’t go to the local police without knowing for sure who’s been turned and who hasn’t.”

  “What gets me is why any man would walk away and leave his papers—hell, his credit cards—in plain sight. My contact says they were found intact by one of Frankie’s goons, but the car was totaled. It’s almost like he disappeared deliberately. If Del Brio had gotten to him, a body would have turned up by now.”

  “Which means our guy figured that by dropping out of the picture, he could buy enough time to put together enough proof to blow this mess out of the water once and for all. When that twister came along—”

  “It was too good an opportunity to miss,” Tyler finished for him.

  “You got it. It would be a smart move.”

  “And our man Spence has never been called stupid.”

  Spence Harrison frowned over the glue job on a broken model airplane. He’d set out a plate of cheese, pickle slices, salsa and sandwich meat, made a fresh pot of coffee, and then he’d waited. Now that he’d made up his mind to tell her, he wanted to get it off his chest. When he made his next move, it would have to be fast. There might not be time at that point for explanations.

  Ellen kicked off her boots and came inside in a breath of cool, fresh air. “It won’t be long now,” she said. “Oh, good, food! I’m starved!”

  “How’s Pete holding out?”

  “In hog heaven.”

  “In what?”

  “Didn’t I happen to mention I’m only half Texan? My mama was the daughter of a North Carolina hog baron. Every now and then she would slip up and let her roots show. It used to drive Daddy wild.”

  “Your father married the daughter of a hog farmer and then broke off with you for marrying a soldier?”

  “Don’t turn up your nose at hog farmers, not unless you’re willing to give up bacon, ham and pork chops.” She poked her head into the refrigerator and came up with a jar of mayonnaise. “Anyway, I like to think I got my business sense from Daddy and my common sense from Mama. At least I think she had some, but to tell the truth, I hardly remember her. You can see for yourself how far the Summerlin business savvy has taken me.”

  He chuckled. Couldn’t help it. When she was running on fumes, she didn’t bother to maintain her defensive walls. “Oh, I don’t know. Seems to me you’re about to increase your assets by a healthy percentage.”

  “I’ve already increased my vet bills by an even healthier percentage.” She added another layer to her creation and topped it off with a dash of black pepper. “Pete’s decided now that he wants to be a veterinarian.” She eyed him, obviously waiting for a reaction.

  “And you’re not happy with the decision, right? Ellen, the kid’s only eight years old. He’s still got a few more stages to go through before he settles on a career. Fireman, jet pilot, rodeo rider.”

  “Don’t forget baseball player.” Lowering her gaze, she concentrated on trimming the ragged edges off her sandwich. “I’d sort of planned on our breeding horses, you know? Maybe even training them.”

  “That was Jake’s dream. Why not let your son figure out his own? Chances are, he’ll come around, given time.”

  She took a big bite and chewed, silent for so long he had to wonder if he’d overstepped some invisible boundary. The walls had definitely been there earlier, but he’d thought they were down again.

  “Tell me something, Storm, did you follow in your father’s footsteps? Oops…sorry, forget I asked.” Yeah, she was edgy, all right. He had a feeling it wasn’t entirely about the mare, either. Was she thinking the same thing he was? About how good last night had been…and how soon they could manage an encore?

  Which was unlikely, at least for the foreseeable future.

  “I know I certainly didn’t follow my father’s dream,” she went on in that same brittle tone. “His dream was to triple his inheritance, expand his investment business and produce a slew of sons to carry on the Summerlin name. Instead he produced a single daughter who stubbornly refused to marry his gold-plated candidate.”

  “Thank God for that,” Spence muttered. “At least you gave him a grandson.”

  “No, I didn’t. My father’s never even met Pete. He wouldn’t help me when I desperately needed help—I actually begged. Well, now that I don’t need his help, it’ll be a cold day in hell before I let him get his hands on my son.”

  She didn’t need her father’s help? To Spence’s way of thinking, she was about as needy as a woman could be. If not to her father, then where could she turn for help? To another husband?

  The thought was distinctly unwelcome. Leaning back in his chair, he found he could easily picture her against a different background. Surprising, as he’d never seen her wearing anything but those baggy work clothes or a tattered chenille bathrobe.

  Ellen took another bite of her sandwich, chewed thoughtfully, swallowed and took a sip of coffee. “Okay, so if Pete wants to be a vet, that’s still connected to horses. I’ll simply find a way to send him to school. There’s plenty of time to save up.”

  “To save up what?” It was cruel to remind her that she barely even had an income, but there were times when a man had to be cruel to be kind. Someone had to force her to look reality squarely in the face.

  She shrugged. “The horses won’t always be a drain. I can probably count on two more foals about every two or three years. If most of them turn out to be mares, when they grow up to breeding age…”

  “There you go,” Spence said softly, because he didn’t know what else to say. Or rather, he knew, but she wouldn’t want to hear it. They were both well aware of all that could go wrong in the meantime.

  “Things will work out, you’ll see,” she said with a lift of that stubborn, vulnerable chin that made him want to gather her in his arms and shelter her from reality.

  Sure they would. “They have a way of doing that, you know,” he said. Except when they didn’t.

  She looked at him then—really looked at him. “Something’s happened, hasn’t it? I mean besides…you know. Last night.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know, woman’s intuition again?”

  “Yeah, something’s happened, Ellen.”

  Eleven

  Spence knew he couldn’t put it off any longer. Things had been on hold far too long. Direct by nature, he was sick of having to skirt around the truth. Now that he finally knew the truth—or at least the part that showed above the horizon—he had to level with her.

  Ellen never once interrupted. Once or twice she looked as if she wanted to, but he didn’t give her an opening. Quickly, unemotionally, he told her who he was and where he’d been going when he’d been sidelined, adding the fact that he was unmarried and was not now, nor had he been in recent years, seriously involved with a woman. He didn’t imagine the look of relief that flashed across her face.

  “So there you have it,” he said when he was finished. “We both came pretty close to guessing the truth.”

  “My God,” she whispered in an awed tone when he finished the bare-bones summary. “Why wasn’t there more in the paper about your disappearance? I remember just one small story—oh, and wasn’t there another piece about whatshisname being appointed in your place? I should think the disappearance of an important court official would warrant headlines in all the major Texas papers. Maybe it did. I only know what was in the Clarion. But what I read made it sound like you were taking an extended vacation or something.”

  “Granted, it was played down, but then, Lone Star County’s not exactly the center of the universe. They have to make editorial decisions, and
they went with the really important events, like the high school football scores and the church bazaar’s cake sale.”

  “Stop it, this is serious.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Hell, it bothered him, too. “Okay, I’m guessing someone covered for me.”

  “But how, why?”

  “Ellen, there’s something I didn’t tell you. I’m not at liberty to divulge all the details, but when I tangled with that twister I was on my way to prison to take an important deposition.” One he’d hoped would point him in the direction of some pretty telling evidence, if he’d been lucky. And careful. “As things stand now, the fewer people who know I’m still alive, the better. Which means I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone.”

  “I won’t, of course. Not even Pete?”

  He hesitated for a long time. “Look, Ellen, I don’t want to simply disappear, and I definitely don’t want to have to lie to Pete any more than I already have, but you have to understand…these people I’m trying to bring down wouldn’t hesitate to use you or Pete to get to me.”

  Carefully she laid half a sandwich on her plate. Her face was a few degrees paler, her eyes darker, larger. “What do you mean, ‘use’ us?”

  “Just what you think I mean. If they had any reason to believe you were important to me, they’d know that by threatening you and Pete, they’d gain complete control over me.”

  After a long silence she whispered, “But only if you cared.”

  “Any decent man—” He sighed. He couldn’t lie to her, not again. Yet how could he tell her how much he was coming to care when he was trying his damnedest not to care? He wasn’t ready. Not now, maybe not ever, depending on how things worked out. She didn’t need any more losses.

  “Ellen, about last night…”

  Reaching across the table, she covered his hand with hers. “Don’t. It should never have happened, but it did, and I’m not sorry.”

  “I promised you I’d be there for you if…you know. I mean, we didn’t use protection last night.”

 

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