Keeping Watch

Home > Other > Keeping Watch > Page 14
Keeping Watch Page 14

by Jan Hambright


  Adelaide stepped into the studio apartment and looked around.

  “Home sweet home,” Royce said from behind her as he closed the door and locked it. “The place was stocked this afternoon. There’s food, and your belongings were brought over from the hotel. There’s even a sketch pad for your drawing pleasure. There’s also a panic button.”

  Her perusal ended on the only bed in the medium-size single room.

  He stepped up beside her, brushing his hand against her upper arm.

  She turned and looked at him, noticing the amused smile on his lips, lips she didn’t seem to be able to stop staring at.

  “I’ll take the chair in the corner. It reclines, in case you were wondering.”

  “Oh.” Heat enveloped her body, burning in her core and surging out to her limbs. Confinement made her nervous, and limited her options. Confinement with a man as desirable as Royce turned her nerve endings upside down. “You were saying there’s a panic button?”

  “Yes, right here in the kitchen.”

  She followed him into the small space, defined by a three-by-six grid of white tile.

  He ran his hand up under the edge of the countertop in front of the sink, took her hand in his and made her feel the small hidden button.

  “It works like a silent alarm in a bank. Press it and the signal goes directly to the police station. Help will arrive within a couple of minutes.”

  “Good to know.” She pulled her hand back, riding a wave of desire. “That must be the bathroom.” She crossed the room, pulled open the only other door in the apartment and looked into the full bath.

  “It’s nice.” She closed the door and turned back around, watching Royce open the refrigerator and stare inside. “Would you like something to drink? There’s soda and juice.”

  “No, thanks, I’m fine.”

  The air in the room hummed with tension. Tension she could feel slide over her skin and drag her toward him.

  “On second thought, ice. Is there any ice?”

  He opened the freezer compartment. “Yes, do you want some?”

  “Please.” She stepped into the kitchen and opened the cupboard door above the single sink. It was her best guess for where the glasses might be. Bingo. She took one out and handed it to him, listening to the clink of the cubes as he dropped them in one by one.

  He closed the door and held the glass out to her. “Would you like something over them?”

  She reached out for it, brushing his cool fingers in the handoff.

  Heat smoldered in his eyes as he studied her. The intensity in his gaze sucked the breath right out of her lungs. She let her stare fall to his lips, then back up to his eyes. “Just ice.”

  They’d been flirting with this for a while. Feeling the pull of a desire that forced them closer to a precipice with every touch, every kiss, every glance. Swift, urgent, undeniable.

  She could no longer resist his brand of temptation, didn’t want to. She put the glass down on the counter.

  Surrender.

  “I vowed to keep you safe.” Royce advanced on her, praying she’d resist, but she stood her ground, staring up into his face, her lips slightly parted, sexy as hell.

  He saw the sheen of sweat form along her collarbone just above the swell of her breasts, under her T-shirt.

  “You’re safe with me, Adelaide, but we’re not safe from this.” He reached for her in a rage of need that flared and heated his body.

  He pulled her against him, hearing her breathing escalate as he fingered her chin and raised her mouth to his. He took her lips, parting them with his tongue.

  Hunger robbed him of coherent thought. He wanted to feel her skin against his, taste the sweet hollows over every inch of her body until he was satisfied, then taste them again.

  She moaned, a pleasure rattle deep in her throat. He pulled back for an instant and stared down into her face.

  Her eyes shone like dark jade, her cheeks spotted in the heat of desire. He watched her struggle for control over the same need as he did.

  “Tell me to stop, Adelaide. Tell me you don’t want what I want, and I’ll stop. As much as it kills me, I’ll never touch you again.”

  “That would be a crime.” She went for the front of his shirt, undoing the first button and fingering the second.

  Reaching up, he stilled her hand against his chest. “Are you certain?”

  “Yes.”

  Surrender.

  The flood gate opened inside him, and he took her mouth again, broke the kiss and waited for her to finish what she’d started. When the last button popped out of its loop, he reached for her T-shirt and pulled it up over her head, then dropped it on the floor at their feet.

  He shed his shirt, watching her reach for the front clasp on her bra.

  His breath caught in his throat, in unison with the pop of the opening. He reached for the two halves and pulled them back to expose her breasts. He went to his knees in front of her and took a nipple into his mouth, ringing it with his tongue as she pressed harder against him.

  His body responded with crushing need. He went hard and rose to his feet.

  She looked up at him, a sexy smile on her mouth as she brushed her hand down his chest one excruciating inch at a time, until she reached the button on his pants, unfastened it and slid the zipper down on his fly.

  Royce clamped his teeth together to keep from losing it. Every muscle in his body was cranked down hard. In one swift motion, he picked her up. She spread her legs and wrapped them around his waist. He aimed for the bed, cupping her sweet round bottom in his hands as he reached the edge of the bed.

  “Stand up,” he whispered as he lifted her up onto the edge.

  Adelaide found the bedspread with her toes and rocked back onto her feet, keeping her hands on his broad shoulders as she steadied herself. She let go and watched him slide his pants down over his hips and kick them off.

  Her breath came in short, excited gasps, her gaze sliding over the measure of his need. She closed her eyes in anticipation and felt his hands on the opening of her jeans.

  Her body hummed, singing for his touch, for the feel of him inside her.

  She opened her eyes and smiled down at him.

  His eyelids were half-closed, but he stared back, a seductive grin on his lips. Reaching inside her jeans from behind, he smoothed them down over her bottom and pushed them into a tangle at her feet. She pulled one foot out, and with the other she kicked them onto the floor.

  “Wanna keep going?” he asked as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of her silk panties.

  Heat exploded inside her. “There’s no way I’m letting you quit now. You started this, you’re going to finish it.”

  “I’d love to.” Royce began the long slide past the point of no return, working her panties down to her exquisite ankles, where she kicked them off and stood naked in front of him.

  “Beautiful,” he whispered, pulling in one labored breath after another. In even rhythm he smoothed his hands over her body with a measure of control he didn’t feel.

  He’d explode if he didn’t take her soon, but it wasn’t his pleasure he craved.

  She quivered against him as he grasped either side of her hips and pressed his tongue into her folds, vibrating it across her sex until she cried out and shuddered like a cold kitten.

  “Mmm,” she whispered as she flopped back on the bed wearing nothing but a smile.

  Satisfied for the moment, he shucked off his briefs and lay down beside her, pulling her against him. Feeling her smooth skin, he kissed the side of her neck and ran his hands up her flat belly and over her taut nipples, roughing one with his thumb, then the other until she moaned and reached for his erection, wrapping her hand around him.

  He rolled toward her and pulled her underneath him. She opened for him as he raised up and met her gaze.

  His control vanished, fried in a blaze of heat that rivaled the sun.

  Pushing with one even stroke, he penetrated her.

 
She gasped. Her arms came up around his back as he buried himself inside her.

  Adelaide closed her eyes, letting the age-old art of love-making take her to a new place, a higher place than she’d ever experienced before. A place Royce easily pushed her toward, with slick, sweet precision. His breath was hot against her ear, his words meant only for her to hear.

  Her climax built, friction stacked on friction, until she arched against him, gasping, letting pleasure spread through her like wildfire.

  A final deep thrust and he came with her, riding the wave of satisfaction as they both found what they were looking for in each other’s arms.

  Minutes passed. The heat cooled. He gently pulled out of her, rolled onto his side and tucked her in against him.

  In the space between them, silence. She liked that. The calm after the storm. She closed her eyes and felt the first measure of real peace she’d experienced in weeks.

  Royce laid his cheek against her head on the pillow and pulled the sweet scent of her hair into his lungs. His heart squeezed in his chest, and he tried to name the emotion flaring in his veins.

  He’d always known there would be a price to pay if he caved in to his need for her. He just hoped they didn’t pay with their lives.

  IT WAS HAPPENING AGAIN.

  Adelaide fought the overwhelming sensation and burrowed deeper into her pillow, but the image in her head wouldn’t be denied. It came again…and again…stronger…more persistent, until a full picture moved through her consciousness, demanding, pressing…horrifying.

  She jolted up in bed, glancing around the small, unfamiliar room, until her gaze settled on Royce, asleep next to her on his side. Her cheeks scorched, and an ache took root deep down in her belly. She reached out and brushed her hand across his shoulder, thinking about the bond that had taken place between them.

  Soul mates, Miss Marie had said. They were soul mates.

  Pulling in a breath, she threw back the covers and climbed out of bed, in search of her sketch pad. The only light in the one-room studio came from a night-light plugged into an outlet in the kitchen.

  “Adelaide? What is it, what’s wrong?” Royce sat up.

  “I just saw her face, Royce. Victim number three if we can’t find her in time.”

  She spotted the pad lying on the table and hurried to retrieve it, grabbing the pencil next to it before she returned to the bed, turned on the lamp and crawled in under the covers beside him.

  Hand shaking, she flipped open the cover of the sketch pad and smoothed it back, staring at the blank page for an instant. Then she began to draw.

  Royce sat still, feeling the vibe of tension in her body. A body he’d enjoyed ravishing time and again, with results that blew his mind. She was like a drug in his system, and he wanted more, but he had to go cold turkey.

  Looking down at the paper, he watched an image begin to materialize with each stroke of her pencil.

  Hair fanned out around the victim’s face, a face that now had features. Large, round eyes, open and fixed, a straight nose dotted with freckles. How was it even possible? How did she do it? She was extraordinary, in more ways than one.

  Royce closed his eyes, listening to the rub of the pencil on the page. His heart rate accelerated, speeding up with each passing second. On the other side of this night was another victim. Another woman whose life could depend on whether or not he was able to put together the pieces of the puzzle in time. He had to get focused.

  Do his job.

  “Finished,” Adelaide whispered.

  He opened his eyes and stared down at the sketch. “What color are her eyes?”

  “Blue.”

  “We’d better get to the station and see if I can convince the chief to put this out to the media. That’s the only way we’re going to find out who she is before she turns up missing. We need the public’s help to identify her.”

  A knot formed in the pit of his stomach as he pushed back the covers and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, feeling a wave of regret for the necessary turn that needed to take place between them. He was too close.

  The pressure of Adelaide’s hand on his back pulled him up short, and he paused, turned and reached for her, pulling her onto his lap, cradling her in his arms. He looked down into her face while he languished in the feel of her skin against his one more time.

  “You don’t have to be sorry for what happened between us tonight. I’m not.” She smiled up at him.

  “‘Sorry’ isn’t a harsh enough word for what I’ve done. I betrayed my oath to protect you, and I’ll keep betraying it if we don’t get out of here.”

  Her smile faded, her eyes narrowing as she reached up and smoothed her left hand along his jaw. The intimate gesture shook his resolve, dialed it back a notch, and allowed a surge of desire to escape his control for an instant.

  Leaning down, he kissed her mouth, jerked back and slid her over onto the bed next to him.

  No skin-on-skin contact was the best place to start.

  He stood up, determination flooding his brain and offering cover for his single underlying need.

  Her.

  “Please don’t say that. You haven’t violated your oath.” She reached out, took the covers and pulled them up, covering her naked breasts.

  The tightness in his groin eased.

  “I’d be dead right now if it weren’t for you.”

  His mouth went dry. “So this was payback for services rendered?”

  “No. The two aren’t even remotely linked.”

  “Sex is complicated. Do you want to use the shower first?” he asked.

  She shook her head and glanced up at him, her green eyes going wide, a mixture of disbelief and indignation sparking a fire in them. She raised her chin and glared at him.

  Regret burned through him, and he felt like such a jerk. Hell, he deserved her anger. He’d intentionally built distance between them by crushing her sense of propriety. He turned for the bathroom and an ice-cold shower.

  “Guess I’ll go first.” He snagged his slacks off the floor and stepped into the bathroom.

  Better now than after he had time to analyze the thick emotion she stirred in his blood. Better now than in the heat of a life-and-death situation clouded by passion that could alter the outcome.

  It was better now.

  ADELAIDE MISMATCHED ROYCE’S strides, taking a couple for every one of his, as they walked down Royal Street headed for the station less than a block away.

  Royce was on his cell phone, talking to Detective Hicks. She heard him say goodbye and close his phone.

  It was 4:00 a.m. and her nerves were still raw, laid open to seethe, stew and digest his insult, until she made the decision to let it go for now. Call it pleasure for pleasure’s sake.

  She clutched the sketch pad close to her body as they passed a couple of unsavory-looking bums on the corner of Royal and Saint Louis streets.

  Royce took hold of Adelaide’s upper arm, steering her around them, but he didn’t let go and the contact reignited her need for his touch, even though she felt like pulling away.

  They crossed Conti and entered the station via the front door.

  A uniformed officer looked up from behind his position at the front desk. “Hey, Beckett.”

  “Can you get Chief Danbury on the phone? Tell him we’ve caught a break in the serial case?”

  “Sure.”

  “Thanks. We’ll be upstairs waiting it out in division.”

  The officer nodded and picked up the telephone receiver.

  Royce steered her to the elevator, and didn’t let go of her upper arm until the doors opened and they’d stepped inside. She was safe here in the station, but outside, he wasn’t so sure. Something about the two men they’d passed loitering on the street corner gave him pause, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Maybe he’d arrested them in the past?

  “You’re going to tell Danbury about my ability, aren’t you?”

  His mouth went dry as he stared down into her face
. “I can’t suppress it. I don’t have a choice, Adelaide, when the sketch could save her life.”

  The look of betrayal in her eyes clutched at his sense of right and wrong but he held his ground. “Results. You provide this department with results. Danbury doesn’t care how you obtain them as long as it’s legal. He just cares that his officers are making arrests based on the composites you draw.”

  She shrugged her shoulders and stared up at the lit numbers above the doors. The chimes sounded and the doors slid open. Royce followed her out into the corridor and through the entrance to the detective division.

  “I suppose you’re right,” she said. “It was only a matter of time before Danbury found out.”

  He was glad she’d reasoned it out, but there was still a tone of betrayal in her acceptance, and responsibility for that, he knew, rested solely on his head for violating the code of conduct, bringing his full-on emotions into the mix and taking her to bed.

  “Want some coffee?”

  “Yeah. I need to wake up.” She plopped into the chair in front of his desk and opened her sketch pad.

  Royce fiddled around at the coffee bar, killing time before he had to look into her sleepy eyes again. Just the thought of making love to her had sent his libido off on a tangent he was still working to pull back from.

  The sound of footsteps in the hallway brought his head around and he saw Detective Hicks step into the room wearing sweats and a beanie.

  “I’m not even on shift for three more hours, Beckett, and you interrupted my morning run. This better be worthwhile.”

  He picked up the two cups of coffee and headed for his desk. “It is. Come on over and we’ll talk standard operating procedure for how we save this woman and catch whoever is responsible.”

  Hicks snagged a chair from a nearby desk and pulled it over. “I’m listening.”

  Royce put the cups on his desk and sat down in his chair, watching as Adelaide picked hers up and sat back.

  “The coroner determined the killer injected each victim with succinylcholine. What’s the scoop on that?”

  “It’s a paralytic drug, with no antidote. It induces total paralysis, the victim remains conscious, all within thirty seconds. But it causes suffocation within six minutes if the patient doesn’t receive RSI, or Rapid Sequence Intubation.”

 

‹ Prev