Now, he understood what had happened, and anger knotted his stomach. Oh, how he wished he had her bastard of an ex’s neck between his hands. He studied her. “You mean your ex-husband kept you from visiting your sick child?”
She rolled onto her back, her gaze focused on the ceiling. “I agreed to go into treatment for a year and not interfere with any medical assistance they might offer Cassie. No one expected her to live for more than a few months. To do what was asked was the right thing to do. After all, I had taken both his children.” He would explode if he didn’t find an explanation for this abomination that had been thrust on her. “You mean that no-good mother-’effing ex-husband of yours….”
She turned toward him, shook her head, and laid her fingers across his mouth. “He did what he thought best. And so did I, at the time. Looking back, I’m not so sure staying out of her life was the best thing, but it’s too late now for regrets. The past can’t be changed. In any event, he won’t stand in my way now whenever I want to visit. The end is very near.”
She fell silent for a moment and then continued. “I want you to know one thing, though, one very important thing. I didn’t know I was pregnant until my first trimester was over. That’s the only consolation, small though it is, that I have. As soon as I found out, I stopped drinking. I nearly went mad, and I lost so much weight the doctor was concerned, but I stopped.”
He was surprised that now, of all times, she seemed calmer, more in control. Maybe sharing her pain had helped her, and that thought made him feel a little better.
“He had the audacity, though,” she continued, “to suggest we might think about getting back together. I can’t imagine even in my wildest dreams what would prompt him to consider such a possibility.”
“How did you handle that?” Now that her meeting with her ex was over and she was here, he breathed a little easier. Still, she had a connection with her ex-husband, which Beck couldn’t share.
Alex shook her head. “I told him he was crazy. I might have been to blame for what happened to our babies, but he certainly wasn’t blameless. His flagrant indiscretions alone should have made me leave him months after our marriage.” She lowered her head. “Not leaving him was my biggest mistake and my greatest weakness. I know that now.”
He brushed a lock of hair from her forehead. “I’ll do anything I can to help you through this.” And he would.
She laid an arm across his stomach, her fingers already working through the dense patch at his groin. Her hand slid lower. Her fingers found him, still semi-hard and instantly firming beneath her touch. She stroked him gently and rested her head on his chest. “Anything?”
He pulled in a quick breath then released it slowly. “Anything.”
“Would you make slow, beautiful love to me?”
Was she kidding? The slow part might be a challenge. But every time they made love was beautiful. He covered her body with his, drawing her as close as he could until he felt only one heartbeat between them. He found her mouth and nudged the tip of his tongue against the seam of her lips. He didn’t want to rush anything. He wanted her to know he was willing to let her set the pace.
Her lips parted, her tongue found his, and her fingers, which had stilled around him, resumed their steady, insistent stroking.
Gently, he unwound her fingers from his throbbing flesh and placed them between their chests. He took his mouth from hers, not far away, but far enough so she could understand his words. “I can’t make slow, beautiful love for very long if you insist on driving me crazy at the outset.” He chuckled while he spoke, wanting her to know he wasn’t displeased, only concerned he couldn’t do as she asked unless he took control.
On a sigh, she parted her lips even wider.
Like a man lost in the desert, he drew moisture from her mouth as though it were an oasis. Pulling back, he looked into her eyes and crushed her body close. “I’ll make love to you, Alex, like it was the first time for both of us. Do you want that?”
Her whispered agreement was the most erotic sound he’d ever heard, and he prayed he would have the needed control to love her gently, slowly, and thoroughly, before he totally exploded inside and out. As if guided by an unknown hand, he found an unknown strength, and he suspended his own needs so he could meet hers.
He explored every inch of her body, every sentient part of her, kissed her and touched her, and tasted her from the sweetness of her mouth to the saltiness of her core. When he had completed the journey, he started again. Time after time, he brought her to climax, riding the apex of her release as if it were his own, but keeping his in check, always ready to meet hers should she give him the word. He amazed himself. Never once did he lose control and the more amazed he became, the greater his ability to please her.
Their bodies became slick and hot, the hair at her temples curled and lay in ringlets along her cheeks, and the blue of her eyes deepened with a fire that leapt out and seared his soul. He went weak from wanting her yet kept on with the determination to sate her until everything bad in her life was completely obliterated. At last, when he was all but ready to beg her—close to tears if he were honest with himself—to let him enter her, she sealed her mouth fiercely to his, cutting his lip and bringing the tinny taste of blood to his tongue.
“Now, Beck,” she rasped in his ear. “Take me, now.”
Again, and again, he thrust, until she called out his name on the wave of yet another orgasm, pulling him with her, over and under, up and over, and under again.
When their lovemaking ended, neither moved until his legs cramped and hers fell away from his back. Then they opened their eyes, looked at each other, and she smiled. Smiled the most beautiful smile he had ever seen in his life. He had done well. He had done very well. If he never made love again, this night would be burned into his memory until he closed his eyes in final darkness. From this night forward, he was a changed man. For the rest of his life he would think, act, and love differently than before because of her.
Alexandra Kingsley had changed him forever.
****
The next morning, Alex slid into the passenger seat while Beck loaded their luggage in the trunk of her car.
After an early breakfast in the hotel dining room, she’d driven the short distance to her mother’s house alone to tell her good-bye in person.
Beck stayed behind to give the contracts he’d brought back from Atlanta a last-minute look. “Ready?” He slid behind the wheel.
“Ready.” She was more than ready after the depressing departure from her mother, which had been almost as emotionally draining as their conversation the day before. They’d parted with Alex reluctantly promising to speak to her father again before she left for Arkansas. She’d also made a qualified promise to make a return trip before the summer ended.
Beck rolled to a stop at a signal light. He tried several radio stations before settling on one. When he finally made his choice, he adjusted the volume and turned to Alex. “Sound okay?”
“It’s fine.”
He’d selected the station with the kind of easy listening music she liked and had adjusted the volume to a comfortable level. He was obviously doing everything he could to please her. As he’d done last night. He glanced at her and grinned as if he’d read her mind and knew she was remembering every intimacy they’d shared over the last eighteen hours.
Traffic began moving, and Beck’s attention was once again forced back to the road.
“I spoke to your father this morning,” she told him.
“So, he’s off the wagon already, huh?”
Her heart clenched at his cynicism. He was always so ready to put down his father. She was glad she could prove him wrong. “No. As a matter of fact, he called to tell me he was doing fine. He’d gone to another meeting yesterday evening and had found a wonderful sponsor.”
Beck gave her a quick glance before he turned back to the road, and his hand found hers on the seat between them. He gave her hand a firm squeeze and looked away from t
he road again to smile. “You’re wonderful, you know that?”
She returned the pressure of his hand but not the smile. “If only I could believe that.”
He was focused ahead now, but his hand still wrapped hers and he gave it another squeeze. “You are wonderful.”
A stray lock of hair fell across his forehead and she took her hand from his to brush it back. “You’re not such a bad guy yourself.”
He grunted.
But she was certain the compliment pleased him.
Houston traffic had been thinner than usual even for a Sunday, and Beck merged into the flow of cars heading to Baton Rouge on I-10.
“Now I know why the traffic in the city was so light.” Beck lowered his speed to adjust to the heavier Interstate traffic. “Half of Texas is heading to Louisiana.”
She chuckled under her breath and tilted her head back on the headrest. “Mind if I just close my eyes for a while?”
He let out a deep laugh. “Wore you out last night, did I?”
She didn’t bother to answer. She didn’t have to. He was well aware of the number of times one of them fondled the other awake.
“I’d like to ask a quick question before you sack out,” Beck said, just loud enough to be heard over the radio.
“Yes?”
“When are you leaving for the site?”
“Probably Tuesday morning.”
“When will you be leaving for Arkansas?”
“Wednesday or Thursday. Why?”
“Oh, just wondering if I had time to plan a little get-together for everyone. A barbecue at my place. I have water now and a generator for limited electricity. Anyway, the barbeque pit is outside.”
She looked over, but he kept his focus on the road. “What do you mean by everyone?”
“Your crew. GrammaU, and the old man.”
A surge of happiness flooded though her, which she quickly repressed. His offer sounded wonderful, but a get-together was only putting off the inevitable. She would be leaving. He would be getting on with his new job. They might not see each other for a long time. Maybe never again.
“Well?” he prompted.
“I don’t know….”
“You could even invite the new director for a combination farewell and welcome.”
She straightened in the seat, tension replacing the mood she’d slipped into thinking about the night before. “Why do you want to do this, Beck?”
“What do you mean, why? Can’t I just do it?”
She wanted to say a gathering would make their parting even more difficult, but she refrained. That would be admitting their parting would be difficult, and maybe he didn’t want to know that. Maybe he wanted to keep everything pleasant and cheerful, not deep and complicated, as they’d agreed.
“We could plan it for Wednesday after the crew finished. We’ll still have hours of daylight. I’ll spend tonight at your cabin, as usual. The new guy will be at the cabin tomorrow night, and since he’ll also be there Tuesday, you could spend Tuesday night at my place and leave for home after the barbecue on Wednesday. You can head out for Arkansas on Thursday.”
She was about to add a smart remark about how she didn’t appreciate that he’d taken over and made her plans, but he raised his hand as if he knew she had something to say.
“GrammaU makes the best potato salad in the world. If I pick up everything she needs, and you helped with the chopping and cooking, she could make some for the barbecue. Even my old man could contribute. Believe it or not, he makes the best damned baked beans I’ve ever had in my life.”
Oh God, a get-together sounded wonderful. Too wonderful. She didn’t want to prolong their parting. But how could she refuse? Besides, she’d get to see his grandmother and his father again. She felt trapped into doing something she wanted to do more than anything in the world but hated the thought of at the same time. “Okay,” she said with reservation.
“Good. How do ribs and chicken sound?”
“Wonderful.”
“Great. Now, you can lean back and relax. Take a snooze, if you want. We’ll work out the details later.”
Relax? She didn’t think she could, but for his sake, she’d try. She tilted back her head again. She had barely begun to wind down when Beck let go with his favorite stream of obscenities. Something different in his tone alerted her instantly. “What’s wrong?”
“Something doesn’t feel right,” he said, maneuvering the car to the right lane, his agitation and his curses mounting as he was forced to squeeze close between two cars on the crowded highway. He pulled the car onto the shoulder of the interstate just as the explosion hit. “Get down,” he yelled, reaching across the seat and hooking an arm around her neck.
Before her mind took in everything, her head was down almost to her waist, and Beck’s face pressed down against the top of her head, shielding her.
The car rocked back and forth a couple of times. She heard metal striking metal and objects hitting the iron undercarriage. Something struck the window on her side of the car. Her body pitched forward, the top of her head hitting Beck’s chin. She heard his teeth click.
He uttered a low, painful moan.
Suddenly, everything went still. She held her breath, aware only of Beck’s arms around her and his heart thundering in her ear. Neither of them so much as breathed until a hissing sound from the car’s front end broke the silence.
Slowly, Beck lifted his head, one of his hands at the back of her head to keep it lowered. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” she whispered, noting the concern in his voice.
“Keep your head down while I check outside the car.”
She did as he instructed, feeling both cowardly and grateful for his protection. Finally, concern for Beck overrode her fear for herself, and she timidly lifted her head. He stood about six feet away from the front of the car, surveying the area around it, a deep frown on his face.
At just that moment, a tow truck pulled off the highway and stopped several feet from Beck. A man jumped out of the cab and headed Beck’s way.
Feeling safer, she straightened in the seat and looked out the side window. Remnants of a tire and bits of metal were strewn about on the grass close to, and for several feet beyond, where Beck stood.
Beck and the tow truck driver, deep in conversation, walked to the front of the car and squatted. After a few minutes, they stood then took a tour around the car, ending at the passenger door. Beck motioned for Alex to get out of the car. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes, I’m okay.”
“We’re getting towed to a service station.”
“What happened?” Her stomach was in knots, but she tried to keep her tone even.
Beck inclined his head toward the tow driver heading to his truck. “Mike, here, is pretty sure the tire was overinflated. One of the rear tires looks overinflated, as well.”
Her eyes widened. “Overinflated? When? How? We’ve been riding around on these tires for the past couple of weeks.”
“You haven’t put in any air lately?”
She shook her head.
“Did you stop for gas at a full-service station yesterday, and maybe an attendant filled them?”
Again, she shook her head. “I stopped for gas a few blocks from the hotel to top off the tank for the ride home, but I pumped it myself. I always do.” She retrieved her purse from the car.
Beck helped her climb into the cab of the truck and slid in beside her. Mike had already hooked up to her car and was in the driver’s seat, ready to take off.
Beck cocked his head to the side. “Mike says he’s seen plenty of exploded tires due to overinflation, and by the damage that was done he’s almost positive that was the case here. Besides the tire and the wheel, a water hose is damaged for sure.”
Alex drew in a quick breath. “How will we get home?”
“The station where I’m taking you guys is open twenty-four-seven,” Mike said. “It’s the largest one in the area, and they stock just
about everything. I’m sure they’ll have all the needed parts. But the repair might take a while to get you back on the road in good shape.”
She leaned back a little, still apprehensive, but feeling calmer now that the worst was over and they were on their way to remedy the damage.
While they drove to the station, Mike chatted non-stop about everything from the unseasonably dry weather to his predictions for the year’s baseball season.
Beck rode in silence, his lips pressed together and an arm draped across her shoulder.
His mood made her uneasy, and she was greatly relieved when at last they pulled into the busy service station. Three hours later as she sat in the station’s waiting room, Alex looked up to find Beck rushing toward her, his mouth set in a harsh line and his brows drawn together. Something was very wrong.
He sat in the chair next to hers and took her hand. “The sooner you get to Arkansas, the better.”
The look in his eyes frightened her. “What do you mean?”
“I had a hunch, and I was just proved right. Every one of your tires was overinflated, which was no accident. We couldn’t have driven very long on those tires without at least one of them blowing. We’re lucky only one did. The others were ready to blow any minute.”
“You mean…?” She couldn’t finish the thought.
“The only explanation I can think of is that someone followed us to Houston. That person has kept track of our whereabouts and probably sometime during the night overinflated those tires. If that tire had blown in traffic, God knows what would have happened to us, as well as to other innocent people.”
“Then that means,” she had difficulty even thinking such a thing, much less putting it into words, “that someone is out not only to frighten me, but to. . . maybe kill me?” Another horrible thought gripped her. “Maybe kill you, too?”
“Looks that way, babe. It sure in hell looks that way.”
Chapter Twenty
Wednesday morning, Alex woke in a cold sweat just as she had each of the three nights since the tire explosion on Sunday. The fear seemed deeper this morning, though. As if a malevolent presence stalking her these past weeks drew closer and closing in for the kill. She shivered at the thought.
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