Dangerous To Love

by Chevon Gael

  There were no words, no adequate conversation. Their bodies spoke their needs. Tara felt the heat of his hardness at the edge of her opening. He was waiting, waiting for her to let him know she was ready.

  "I want you,” she murmured. “I want you inside me. Now."

  At her insistence, he made his move and plunged inside her. She gasped as he entered her. Groaned at the sweet stinging stretch as Brett filled her. Gloried in the feel of the man inside her. He moved slowly at first, letting her take the lead and make the rhythm. Once she wrapped her legs around his hips, he rode her freely. Slow and deep, hard and fast. He took his cue from her urgent cries and whispered responses.

  He wasn't just making love to her, he was giving her something she'd never had before. Control. They were sharing more than their bodies. They were in tune with the pleasure of sex. Her lover reached down and placed his hand between them. His thumb rested on her clitoris, engorged and throbbing from the attention. He rubbed it vigorously, giving her no end of pleasure. His ministrations gave her the ultimate pleasure as her orgasm swiftly overtook her. She felt her inner-muscles convulsing around Brett's cock. It was then that he came with her, his body shuddering as raged groans signaled his orgasm. Tara became aware of hot, wet fluid spilling inside her. Seconds later, he lay over her, his breath hot and heavy on her neck. She held him in her arms for several moments.

  "Oh shit!” The words were barely audible from the man above her.

  Tara went suddenly still. Had he regretted their lovemaking? “What?"

  "Tara, I'm sorry. But I should have made an effort to mention birth control."

  She relaxed. “Oh. I guess I forgot, too."

  "You're not mad?” One of Brett's hands weakly toyed with her hair.

  She turned and smiled at Brett. “Of course not. Next time we'll remember."

  He rewarded her with a smile in return. “Next time. I like the sound of that."

  "I hate to break the mood, but we should get back to Rachel's. She'll be worried."

  "Tara..."

  "Hmm."

  "We shouldn't mention this to Carter. He might shoot me."

  "Okay,” she said absently.

  Brett lifted his head. “Okay? You want him to shoot me?"

  "No. I mean okay we won't mention it.” After a moment passed, she said, “Brett."

  "Hmm?"

  "You have to move so I can get up."

  "I'm thinking about it,” came the muffled reply.

  "Can you think faster? I have to go to the bathroom."

  "In that case, I guess I'll move.” With that he climbed off her.

  Brett was dressed when she returned. Tara had changed back into her clothes. He greeted her with a kiss.

  "You realize this is an officially complicated situation."

  "I know. When can we complicate it some more?"

  "Already?"

  "You have a problem with that?"

  "No. It's just that my pistol needs a little rest to reload before I shoot again. Not that you don't make an enticing target.” He squeezed her behind and grinned.

  "I'd say your aim is okay. Although you could use a little practice."

  He kissed her. “Anything you say. Practice makes perfect."

  "Supper first. I'm starved. Then we'll politely excuse ourselves and you can take me back to your hotel. I'm glad you decided not to stay with us."

  "Tara, the O'Conners have one guest room and you're the guest. I couldn't see myself in the basement squeezed into a lumpy pull-out sofa. I have a king-size bed and an indoor swimming pool. Bring your bathing suit and toothbrush. They have a fabulous breakfast buffet.” He winked at her. “Let's go. And remember, not a word to Carter."

  * * * *

  Tara practically glowed as she followed Brett into the house. They snuggled close together, Brett's arm around her caressing her shoulder and occasionally sneaking lower to brush the curve of her breasts outlined in the tight-fitting cotton sweater she now wore. Tara made a lame attempt to slap his hand away, then retaliated by slipping her fingers into the back pocket of his pants and gently squeezing the hard muscled cheek of his rear.

  If Tara noticed anything strange at supper, she didn't say anything. Carter seemed rather strained and distant, but she suspected Rachel's explanation that he was often moody. She did notice that he placed Brett under rather close scrutiny, particularly about how they'd spent the afternoon. She decided to tell only Rachel that she wouldn't be sleeping here tonight. But after supper, Carter wanted to show her and Brett his new computer system. At first Tara declined. But when Carter insisted, she shrugged and agreed.

  "Okay, kid. Pull up a chair. I've got a surprise for you. Brett, grab a seat behind her."

  Brett seated Tara beside Carter and stood behind them. Carter had himself a nice set-up thought Brett as he sipped on a beer Rachel had given him. The room was large, bright and full of the latest in technologically advanced computer equipment. He discovered that Carter was maintaining a province-wide database for the Winnipeg Police Department. So, this was how he and Denny knew each other. Carter revealed that they traded information from time to time. If WPD had reason to believe a federal suspect was in their area, they contacted the RCMP for permission on set-up and surveillance. Scratching each other's back was good for business.

  Brett watched Tara. She was fascinated by what Carter was doing.

  "Now I can't make any promises, Tara, because of the connection at the other end, but I should have something here in a moment that will make you very happy."

  Carter struggled out of his desk chair to adjust a tiny, round camera perched on top of the large color monitor.

  "Webcam,” Brett commented.

  Carter grunted and returned to his chair. Carter began typing and the monitor flickered to life. He settled a tiny headset into one ear. A small microphone was connected to the set. Carter plugged the jack end into the computer.

  "What are you trying to do?” asked Tara, impatient to find out what was so imperative to her.

  "I'm trying to establish a video/voice connection between myself and the person at the other end of this line.” A few loud blips from the mounted speakers told everyone present that he'd finally succeeded.

  The picture on the monitor turned from a collection of bright, sharp colors to a grainy, unfocused black and white image. Carter leaned and spoke into the mic.

  "Hello? Are you there and can you talk?"

  The response came in a series of garbled sounds.

  "I'll try to filter this,” Carter informed them as his fingers raced across the keyboard, calling up one program after another. A moment later, the image on the screen came into focus. Tara's eyes grew wide in recognition. Her hands flew to her mouth as she muffled a cry.

  "Uncle Carter? Can you hear me?"

  "Yes, son. We can see you, now."

  The image of a young boy flickered across the screen. The movements were stilted and not quite in time with the voice coming through the speakers.

  "Uncle Carter, I see some other people there."

  Tara began to shake violently. She looked frantically from Carter to Brett. Brett placed both his hands on Tara's shoulders to steady her.

  Carter held her hand. He covered the microphone with his other hand. “Don't break down, Tara. He needs to see you're strong."

  Tara sniffed loudly and nodded.

  "Uncle Carter, is Aunt Rachel there? And the rat?"

  Tara turned a confused face to Carter. “Rat?” she whispered.

  "Rug-rat. Kerry.” He uncovered the microphone and spoke. “Guess who's here, Patrick. Someone who's waited a long time to say hello to you."

  "MOM!” The speakers rattled with the impact.

  Tara leaned forward toward the microphone and cleared her throat. Carter aimed the web camera directly at her.

  "Mom! Mom! I can see you. It's really you."

  "Patrick...” her voice cracked. “Oh, baby. You're so big. You're so ... you don't know how long I've waited
to see you ... to hear your voice. I've missed you so much!"

  "Put your hand on the monitor, Mommy ... Mom. Please."

  Tara stared at Carter in confusion. Brett hunkered down beside her and took her shaky hand. He gently guided her to the screen until her fingertips lightly touched the image of her son. Tara's chin trembled as she made an effort to speak.

  "Oh, I wish I could touch you for real."

  Then Patrick placed his hand on his own monitor. “There, Mom. It's like we can really touch each other. Sorta."

  Brett saw Tara visually wrestling with the image on the screen. “Can you bring it in a little clearer?"

  Carter tried once again to filter the image. Then he wished he hadn't.

  "Mother of God!” Both men heard Tara's strangled cry of anguish as the image cleared to reveal the boy's thin, drawn face. His joy at seeing his mother again couldn't hide the pinched nose or worried eyes. His left cheek looked swollen and some discoloration lingered near his eye.

  Brett felt his temperature shoot up. Carter balled his fists and sucked in his breath.

  Tara covered the microphone. Her gaze flew to Carter. Her outraged voice demanded, “What happened to him? Have you ever seen him like this before?"

  Carter couldn't bring himself to look at her. He closed his eyes and gave up one quick nod.

  "Bastard!” Brett hissed behind them.

  "That and more,” agreed Carter. “I'm only sorry you had to see this. But as we speak, the webcam is downloading this image to a file we can use to help get him back here. If there's ever a need for proof that Roman is abusing him, continually, we've got it right here."

  "Mom? Uncle Carter?"

  "We're here,” they answered in unison.

  "Who's the man beside mom?"

  Brett inched up to the mic and settled himself in front of the webcam. “Hi there. My name is Brett. I'm a policeman like your Uncle Carter. I'm helping your mom."

  Carter shot a direct glance at Brett. Tara seemed nonplused by the statement.

  Carter eased the transition. “Actually, Patrick, Brett's a Mountie."

  "Cool! Hey, can I ride your horse sometime?"

  Brett chuckled softly before answering. “I don't have a horse, but I was in the Ride. I still have a lot of friends there. I'm sure I can arrange something."

  "Awesome!” For the first time, Patrick's child-like face lit up. Some of the aged worry Tara saw in his eyes dissipated. “Hear that, Mom? A real horse. Boy, I can't wait."

  Carter took over the mic. “Are you ready for the big jump, Patrick? Remember what we discussed, if there's anything you're not clear about, you let me know. Are you scared, son?"

  "No sir!” Patrick's voice was emphatic. “I remember everything. Every detail. I can do it. They won't catch me. I've got it all covered. Boy, I feel like a real live James Bond. I'll be home in no time."

  * * * *

  Home. Tara's heart ached at the word. Home was what she longed for, what she dreamed of for almost four long years. And to hear Patrick refer to his birthplace as home only confirmed her decision that she had made the right choice. To have her children, both of them, together with her in a safe, loving environment was all she ever wanted.

  What happened with Brett this afternoon was a diversion, that's all. She couldn't expect him to stick around now that he knew she came with a closet full of past-life baggage and a ready-made family. Brett was a man of the law. And, from what she'd learned from both Carter and Brett himself, the Mounties could transfer him to the other end of the country on a mere whim. She couldn't imagine pulling up stakes, packing herself and her kids and moving them away from the only family they'd ever known on a few week's notice, if that. Assuming Brett would even want her and two children tagging along.

  Besides, there was the ghost of Roman DeMarco hanging over her. It would undoubtedly create a problem with his superiors. She would be labeled a security risk, even have the potential to ruin Brett's career. No, she told herself realistically, this brief affair with Brett was all she could ever hope to have with him.

  "Mom! Mom!” Tara responded to the urgency in her son's voice.

  "Yes, sweetheart. I'm here.” I'll never be away from you again.

  "I have to log off. Someone's coming. If anything changes between now and Friday, I'll try to get a message to you. Love you. Bye."

  Then the screen went black. All were silent for a moment. Tara stared at the monitor where her son had been only seconds ago. Her fingers still lingered on the screen where his face had looked out at her with so much love and longing. As if removing her hand would permanently sever the connection forever.

  Carter continued to download files. Finally, Brett closed his hand over her outstretched fingers and drew Tara into a comforting embrace.

  Carter finished and shut down the computer. He swiveled his office chair around to face Brett and Tara. “Okay, people. Time to go over the plan. This time so everyone understands where they're supposed to be and what they're supposed to do.” He addressed Brett directly. “Are you in or not?"

  Brett let out a deep breath before answering. “You gonna snatch him?"

  "Not exactly. Patrick's stay at the computer camp ends on Friday. We have a four day window to get everything in place. Friday morning after breakfast, he's going to get a sudden, severe stomach ache. The camp instructor's going to take him to the hospital in Minnesota, at least as far as Patrick's bodyguards are concerned."

  "But he's not going to the hospital, right?"

  Carter grinned. “Nope! The camp instructor is going to make a little detour."

  "You seem sure about this.” The tone of Brett's voice indicated that he wasn't.

  "The instructor is an old friend of mine—a plant. He's going to drive the boy to a pre-determined pick-up where we'll be waiting. Tara's already got the kid's birth certificate."

  All of a sudden, a familiar, battered brown enveloped appeared in Brett's lap. “I believe you were interested in this.” Brett nodded slowly.

  "So, that's what you were guarding all this time."

  "You got it, Sherlock. My son's birth certificate. His legal ticket back into this country."

  "You want to fill the great detective here in on the rest of our plan while I find out what my pregnant wife wants to do about dessert? If she hasn't eaten it already."

  Carter struggled to his feet and Tara handed him his cane. “Give her a break, Carter. I guarantee it gets worse before it gets better. Here, put Pat's birth certificate in my purse. It's at the top of the stairs.” Carter gave her sour smile. Then he limped across the room and closed the office door behind him.

  Brett took the opportunity and settled himself in Carter's vacant chair. He sat directly across from Tara. He still had not let go of her hand.

  "This is one hell of a dangerous game you're all playing,” he began.

  "You're not going to talk me out of this,” she warned. “It's not kidnapping. It's retrieval. You forget, my son was snatched from me. I have my papers from the court of appeal and his birth certificate. He's running to the people who love him, to a family who wants him. To me, his mother. And he's getting some help."

  "What about Roman's guards? What happens if they catch him? Seems to me you're taking a hell of a chance with your son's life."

  Tara glared at him. Defiance laced her voice. “They won't catch him."

  Brett jumped up from the chair and paced the carpet. “Oh, for Christ's sakes, Tara. You saw the kid. It's pretty obvious he's being abused by his father. What do you think will happen to him if he's caught? Use your head."

  Tara stared at him, undaunted. “I have used my head and it's kept me alive. I've gotten this far using my wits,” she snapped.

  Brett gripped her shoulders, fighting the urge to shake some sense into her. “Your wits got you caught. You're lucky I picked you up off the side of the road and not some gung-ho Customs and Excise officer who'd have tossed your pretty butt so far south across the border you'll need a compass
to find north again."

  Tara's eyes grew wide and round. She trembled under his onslaught. She swallowed and licked her lips. Raw fear now plain on her face. “Then I'll try again,” she vowed. “And again and again. And if I'm caught and put in jail, I'll get out and keep trying. I'll do whatever it takes to get my son back."

  Brett silently cursed himself and let her go. “You don't get it, do you, Tara? There are procedures for this kind of thing, legal procedures that involve courts and laws. You know, those things that I put my life on the line to uphold and protect and die for if I have to."

  "Like I'd die for my son or my baby daughter or anyone else I love."

  "You can't break the law to make the law. Two wrongs don't make a right."

  "No, they don't. But, the courts get so wrapped up in laws and procedures that the system forgets what's right. What's right is that my son belongs with me, not with that monster who tore him from my arms and raped me and beat me and left me to die. And what kind of justice did I get? ‘Sorry, lady. You're an American citizen. Your husband's an American citizen. We have no jurisdiction here.’ And what about Patrick? Don't you think I know what goes on when his father gets angry? Didn't you see the result? Do you have any idea what this is doing to me? My God, Brett. You say use my head. Well, open your eyes and stop letting the law get in the way of what's in front of you. ‘To Serve and Protect,’ isn't that what you're supposed to do? Well, serve me and protect my son. Maintain his right to live safely."

  Brett was speechless. He turned away from her, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand and raking his hair with the other.

  "I don't give a shit what you do, Tara,” he grated out.

  "Liar,” came the reply behind him.

  Carter had returned and was standing in the doorway holding a cup of coffee. “You care. You cared the first time I saw you with her. You care now."

  "Yes, I care,” he spat out. “I care that she gets her pretty little ass shot off. I care about that kid on the computer screen and the one upstairs who pissed all over my pants and barfed on my shirt after supper. I care because you people are going about this the wrong way."