by Kylie Brant
She looked around the room, nonplussed. What did she do while he slept? Going to bed herself while he was still there was out of the question. She was hoping he awoke long before then. She finally crossed silently to the desk and sat down to pay bills. The task would keep her hands and mind busy. And off the man snoozing in her living room. With any luck he'd doze for a half hour or so and then awake on his own. At least she hoped so.
It was close to three hours before Cade moved. And when he awoke it was with a return to awareness that was as fascinating as it was startling. His eyelids opened abruptly and his green eyes were instantly alert. The only remnant from his earlier slumber was his sleep-roughened voice. "You should have woke me."
Shae reached up and removed the headphones that had kept the television from bothering him. "I figured you could use the rest."
"Yeah, well … it'd be better to get it at home, right?" If he'd been anyone else, she'd have sworn she read embarrassment on his face. The notion would be ridiculous, but for the haste with which he was getting to his feet. He shoved his free hand through his hair, which was more unruly than usual. His effort was in vain. The same lock of hair fell forward again.
He glanced down, seemed surprised that he still held the sheaf of papers in his other hand. "I read through this. Sounds pretty solid, but I'd feel better if there was a mention of security measures for that skylight in your bedroom."
"It's going to be hooked to the alarm system, too," she said. She was unwilling to put bars over it. Sleeping beneath it, being able to look up at the stars, gave her a sense of freedom that would be irreparably marred if the skylight was altered. The alarm would be enough.
Nodding, he crossed to the desk and replaced the papers, then continued on to the stool by the counter where he'd left his coat. "Well, I'll take off so you can get to bed. When do you go to work tomorrow?"
Unsure what else to do, Shae followed him to the door. "Seven."
Cade paused in the act of shrugging into his jacket. "In the morning?"
When she nodded, he winced. "All the more reason you should have kicked me out of here hours ago. I wouldn't have minded. I don't make a habit of falling asleep in pretty doctors' apartments."
"I'm not in the habit of allowing it." The words, stark with truth, escaped her before she could think about them. She would have done anything to call them back.
His expression was arrested. "Why did you?"
Shae forced a shrug, walked past him to open the door. "From the looks of you, I wasn't sure you were getting sleep anywhere else."
He trailed after her slowly. "So it was an act of mercy?"
"Something like that."
He paused at her side, looking down at her, an odd expression on his face. "Then I guess I should thank you." Before she could guess his intention, he cupped her face, lowered his head and brushed her lips with his. Shock held her still. He hesitated, his mouth barely touching hers, their breaths mingling. Then with a barely audible groan he deepened the contact, his lips moving firmly, persuasively against hers.
There was nothing tentative about this kiss or her response to it. She knew he was capable of charm and of an awesome control. If he'd used either, she could have resisted. But it was surprisingly difficult to summon resistance to this hard reckless plundering, one that spoke of urges unchecked. Of a control unleashed.
She opened her mouth beneath his and his tongue swept in. She tasted it, enjoying the jolt of pleasure as his dark dangerous flavor imploded on her senses. One of his hands threaded through her hair while the other wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer until she could feel his heart thundering, echoing hers, beat for beat. Teeth clashed as her mouth twisted beneath his, both battling for another angle, as the kiss grew deeper, wilder, hotter.
Heat combusted within her, spreading a fire that was as heady as it was unfamiliar. She scored his full bottom lip with her teeth, pleased to feel him shudder. Sex with Cade would be like this—a wicked wild ride, careening from sensation to sensation before the culmination of shattering pleasure. It could be as simple, as uncomplicated as that, as long as she set the pace. She didn't indulge in sex indiscriminately, but when it happened, she chose the man, the place and the time. He was making it impossible not to choose him. Here. Now.
Shae tore her mouth from his, then gasped as his teeth went to the cord of her throat, leaving tiny stinging bites that he soothed with his tongue. "You don't have to leave yet." Her voice was more breathless than she would have liked, her vision, when she managed to drag her eyes open, less focused. "We can continue this upstairs."
She felt the arm around her waist tighten reflexively, and there was a flash of hunger on his face that had her knees turning to water. But in the next moment the expression was followed with one of regret, which had her senses mourning even before he rested his forehead against hers. "You have to work early tomorrow, remember?" he murmured, frustration rife in his voice. "And if I stayed, you'd get damn little sleep tonight."
It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him he wouldn't be staying, at least not beyond an hour or so, but he was already moving away from her, his movements jerky with checked desire. "I'm gonna hope like hell that you issue the invitation again another time. Believing that is about the only thing that's gonna get me out of here."
He paused in the doorway and it was only then that Shae realized the door had been open the entire time they'd been in each other's arms. Giving her a quick hard kiss, he muttered, "Lock the door after me." Then he was gone, striding down the hallway to the elevator, his spine straight, his shoulders rigid.
Not wanting to be caught staring after him, Shae stepped back on shaky legs, swung the door shut and locked it. Then she leaned against the panels, her limbs too weak to hold her without support. It was for the best, she thought, and tried to believe it. Although Cade Tremaine didn't seem the type to seek sticky entanglements, neither did he appear to be the kind of man who relinquished control easily. Would he be satisfied with the little she had to offer, or would be push for more?
The question wouldn't be answered tonight, and on one level she was grateful he'd left when he had. There were too many unknown facets about the man. She'd do well to be more certain she could control all aspects of any relationship between them before she entered into one, however briefly.
But hormones operated on a different level from logic, and those hormones were still putting up a disappointed chorus when she made her way upstairs and got ready for bed. As she slipped between the sheets and closed her eyes, she was welcomed by a mental scrapbook of images—ones of Cade, sleeping in her living room, grinning over a sandwich, looking at her with his face stamped with arousal.
Issuing a groan, Shae flipped over, punched her pillow into a more comfortable position. She had a feeling her sleep would have been a lot more restful had Cade accepted her invitation.
Surprisingly, she slept. Not a deep slumber, but one dominated by a green-eyed man with a lazy smile and a lethal air. She didn't know what brought her awake at first. She opened her eyes, disoriented, her gaze going to the alarm clock on the bedside table. Three a.m. Then the phone rang again and she reached for it automatically. She wasn't on call, but it wouldn't be the first time she was asked to come in to cover for another physician.
"Hello?"
"Angel Eyes."
The blood slowed in her veins, forming layers of ice. The voice was instantly recognizable, and dread mingled with disbelief as she sat upright in bed. Sweeping her hair out of her eyes, she said, "Who is this?"
"You know who it is, Angel Eyes. Sorry to wake you up, but you're a hard one to get hold of." LeFrenz's voice was conversational. "Guess you doctor types don't have time to answer the phone, but it seemed a little rude to me, ya know." There was a pause, one that seemed filled with menace. "I'm trying to believe you weren't just avoiding me by not answering."
The words, in light of the man's actions, seemed particularly incongruous. "I didn't know the calls were fr
om you," she replied as evenly as she was able. "Why didn't you give your name?"
"I knew I'd catch up with you eventually. You knew it, too, dincha, Angel? I could tell, that time in my room, you were feeling the same thing I was. You had to know you and me weren't finished."
No, she thought sickly, she hadn't known. Hadn't believed it. But Cade had. He'd been right the entire time. She shuddered, drawing the covers up over her shoulders. But her voice was steady when she said. "I heard you killed a police officer. How did you get out of the hospital? You had to have help." Hearing his voice in the darkness made him seem all too real, all too close. With her free hand she reached out, snapped on the lamp.
"That don't matter. They ain't gonna find me. And it ain't gonna stop the two of us from getting together." His tone went low and intimate. "We're gonna have us a time, Angel Eyes. Bet you know lots of ways to pleasure a man, you being a doctor and all. I'm gonna let you show me all of 'em. Then you're gonna find out what a real man is like. You're gonna love it, too."
Revulsion snaked down her spine. But rather than stating it, screaming it, she said, "You're seriously injured. You should be under a doctor's care. You need medicine and possibly rehabilitation if you're to recover. Where are you?"
"Now that's real nice." Satisfaction laced his words. "You worrying about me. It's okay, I got everything I need. Still have to take it easy for a while, but I didn't want you to think I'd forgotten about you, Angel Eyes. Didn't want you to forget about me."
Her throat was dry. She had to force the words out to respond, "I haven't forgotten. But if you tell me—"
"All you need to know is I'm gonna be around, Angel. And when the time is right, I'm coming for you."
The line abruptly went dead. It was a moment before she could unclench the fingers that clutched the receiver so tightly. Another before she could force herself to return the receiver to the cradle.
Reaction set in, a dizzying spiral of emotion that hammered her insides with brutal pummeling fists. Somehow, despite Cade's certainty, she'd never believed LeFrenz would contact her. Why would he? She'd barely spoken to the man. How could Cade have picked up on something she'd been so blithely unaware of?
Chills skated over her skin, and she rubbed her arms. She was forced to believe it now. LeFrenz had left her with no illusions about his plans. She'd treated enough rape victims to know what was in store for her if the man succeeded catching her alone.
The alarm that twisted in her stomach was matched by the response that came from her next thought. With this proof that Cade was right about LeFrenz, she needed the detective now in a way she was loath to accept. In a way that made her vulnerable and dependent on him.
She didn't know which of the prospects frightened her more.
* * *
Chapter 7
« ^ »
Cade pushed open the door to the lieutenant's office, sending a curious glance toward the stranger in the room. "You wanted to see me, Lieutenant?"
"This is Detective Quentin." The tall dark-haired man rose, proffered a hand. "He's heading up the narcotics task force that took over Brian's and your investigation."
Interest sharpening, Cade shook the other detective's hand. "You guys come up with any good leads?"
Quentin was tall and broad, with a face that would look more at home on a magazine cover than on the street. The regret in his voice sounded real enough when he said, "Wish I had better news. We aren't close to an arrest yet, but we've narrowed down the supplier you guys were looking for to a couple names. Lucky Reggau or Justus Davies. Haven't been able to close in on either one of them yet, but it's just a matter of time."
Cade's brow creased. "Reggau? He's always been two-bit. He wouldn't have had the financing or the brains to put together an operation the size of the one we were looking at."
Quentin shrugged. "Our sources are pretty good. Reggau was in the pen a couple years ago. He could have made contacts there. And Davies just moved here last year from Chicago. He's affiliated with the Trax gang and started his own operation down here. Ever run into him?" When Cade shook his head, he went on, "The CPD suspect him of several drug-related killings, but they've never been able to come up with enough to make the charges stick. We're hearing both these guys' names on the street as ones to talk to. I like Davies better than Reggau for it myself. Putting out pure stuff is a Trax tactic. They use it to issue warnings to troublemakers thinking to get a piece of their territory."
"I don't know." Cade was unconvinced. "Taking out a couple of cops is pretty ballsy, even for a gang member. And neither of those names came up during the course of our investigation."
"Lips loosen when something as big as a cop killing goes down. No offense," Quentin said quickly. "Informants start coming out of the woodwork when they smell big money to be had. Makes it hard to sift through to the real leads, but we're still working on it. These two names represent the best leads so far. Unless you've remembered something that wasn't in your earlier report."
Cade shook his head. "It was all there. I hope you're right and you're close to nailing this guy. It'd be nice for Brian's widow to be able to get some closure on the whole thing." After a quick glance at Howard he asked, "Did Jonny LeFrenz's name ever come up from one of the informants?" The question had been nagging at him since the punk had professed knowledge about Brian's shooting. The guy had been expanding his drug territory pretty rapidly. It was enough to make Cade wonder whether LeFrenz's information was firsthand or had come from Freddie.
Quentin leaned back in his seat, crossed his leg over his other knee. "The guy who took out the uniform at Charity?" Cade nodded. "His name comes up in a lot of our investigations. He's a scumbag, but nothing we've gotten so far points to his involvement."
Which didn't explain whether he'd been blowing smoke when he'd claimed to know something about it. The only way to be sure, Cade reflected, was to track down Freddie and LeFrenz and determine for himself.
After a few more minutes Quentin rose, shook hands with the lieutenant. "I know what it's like to lose a man. I'll keep you posted."
"I appreciate that," Lieutenant Howard said.
The man looked at Cade. "Sorry about your partner. But if it's any consolation, I'm not going to rest until someone gets put away for his death."
"Thanks."
When the man had left the office, the lieutenant said, "Well? What'd you think?"
Cade lifted a shoulder, sat down again. "Davies and Reggau sound like small fish to me. Everything we were looking at pointed to someone with a lot of power, someone who generated a lot of fear."
"Well, you know how it works," Howard said. "Maybe one of these guys will lead us to a bigger cog in the chain."
Yeah. Something tightened inside Cade. He definitely knew how it worked. He also knew precisely how many unsolved murders there were in New Orleans. He was determined Brian's wouldn't be one of them. "What was Quentin doing here, anyway? I thought Ryder and Sanover were keeping you posted on the investigation."
"They were. Apparently I.A. had some questions about what the investigation has turned up and Quentin fielded them."
At the mention of I.A., the omelette Cade had devoured that morning turned to lead in his stomach. "Speak of the devil … Torley and Morrison should be set up in the coffee room now."
"When's your appointment with them?"
Glancing at his watch, Cade replied, "Ten minutes ago."
Howard smiled a little. "You've made your point. They've been kept waiting long enough. Go see what you can find out about what they're up to."
That advice was easier to suggest than follow, Cade reflected as a half hour later he sat across a battered wooden table from the I.A. sergeants, a tape recorder situated conspicuously between them. The two men took turns asking a series of cagily worded questions that had Cade getting more and more frustrated. Apparently he wasn't giving them the answers they were looking for, because a few minutes after a question was asked, one of them would rephrase it. "
Were you there when Hollister set up the meeting with his informant?"
Slouching down in his chair, Cade replied with exaggerated patience, "No. I just got done telling Torley a few minutes ago that I didn't hear the conversation. So it would follow that I wasn't there when the meeting was set up."
Morrison looked up from the tape recorder in front of him. "So Hollister came to you and said he had a guy he wanted you to meet…"
As interrogation techniques went, his was blatantly obvious. By subtly twisting Cade's earlier response, he was attempting to bait him into agreeing to something he could use as a contradiction later. "No, I told you twice already. We'd both been working our informants hard, digging for a lead. Either no one had anything, or they weren't talking. People on the street knew we were looking for information. Freddie contacted Brian, said he might know something." Cade shrugged. "We weren't even that excited about it. He's just a junkie snitch, trades information for enough cash to get high. We doubted he'd have anything worthwhile, but figured it was worth listening to. It wasn't like we had anything else to go on."
"So Hollister said Freddie contacted him?" This from Torley. He had a habit of looking up from the pad he was scribbling on without lifting his head, making his brows look more forbidding than usual. Cade had the unkind thought that the man looked like a young Frankenstein without the build.
"That's right."
"But you can't verify that, because you…"
"…didn't hear the conversation." Cade made a point of checking his watch. "You guys might have all day, but I've got a job to do. Maybe we could hurry this along by you just asking me the same question twice, instead of half-a-dozen times."
"The reason we're asking is we have no record of Freddie calling Hollister," Morrison put in. "We've got his phone records. He didn't call Hollister at home, the district or on his cell."