Face to Face

by CJ Lyons

  Wanted what only Drake could give her.

  Her fingers slid around to the small of his back to tantalize him. She watched as his eyes darkened. He arched back, signaling his surrender. With a primal grunt, he planted his feet, raised her up and entered her.

  She fisted her fingers in his hair, tugging as he cupped her buttocks in his large, capable hands. Her back slid against the soap slicked tiles as he thrust into her, each stroke sending a fresh wave of heat and fire through her. His head fell forward, his lips parting in an animal snarl of excitement. One hand left her to brace against the wall as her lips closed over his.

  They moved together. Their passion rose, cresting beyond anything Cassie had ever before imagined. Mutual need and animal desire drove them on until she could no longer separate any of her senses, all five mingling in an explosion of water tasting of vanilla and salty sweat, smelling of musk and sex and lavender, the pounding of their mingled pulses driving through her brain as her entire universe contracted to the sight of his eyes searching her soul.

  She held on, her grip bruising as he thrust inside of her, pushing her over the brink into a world that existed solely for the two of them. She cried out his name, the water mingling with her tears as he filled her, completed her.

  Finally the laws of physics and biology forced them into a thundering final climax that left them both shaking. Cassie lowered her feet back to the ground and sank against the stolid wall of tile. Drake stood, both arms braced against the wall, trembling.

  "Jesus, Hart," he whispered, his head collapsing onto her shoulder. "What you do to me."

  He let out a deep, satisfied sigh. She wanted to tell him that the feeling was mutual but was too exhausted to force the words out. Instead she clung to him, her body pressed against his, vibrating in harmony, the aftershocks of pleasure still rippling through her.

  He turned his head to face her. "If we're done arguing, can we go to bed now?"

  "Yes," was all she had the strength to say.

  Yes to everything, to whatever he wanted. He could have all of her. He already did, she realized with dismay tainted by a small undercurrent of joy. This was dangerous territory. She needed to tread lightly.

  Something impossible for her to do whenever Drake was around.

  CHAPTER 33

  There was something primal and erotic about having a woman trust you enough to sleep within your arms, Drake thought. More than erotic. Soul-stirring. Knowing how hard it was for Hart to trust at all, to give up any control, it made him feel powerful, a better man. He remembered what she'd said earlier, about not being able to sleep without him and wondered if she had any idea the same was true for him.

  Finally, Drake allowed his exhaustion to overtake him and fell into the realms of a deep sleep free from nightmares for the first time in a week. Instead he dreamed of Hart. Dreamed of saving her, of being strong enough to banish her fears—past, present and future. Dreamed of the ways she would reward him, with her body, with her love.

  When he woke, bright sunshine streamed through the small slit in the curtains. Hart nestled against him, curled into him, one hand fisted at his chest, one leg flung over his. There was nothing more in this world that he wanted than to wake every day for the rest of his life like this.

  The clock on the bedside table read 12:22. The growling emanating from Hart's stomach confirmed the time. She never skipped breakfast. He drew his breath in, trying not to laugh. Amazing how good sex—hell, great sex—and fourteen hours of sleep could revive a man, change his outlook.

  He felt Hart's breathing change its rhythm, felt her slowly ease into wakefulness. He feathered his fingers down her back, loving the way shivers raced over her muscles as if his touch brought them to life. Her fingers stroked his chest, quickly followed by her lips against his nipple. A teasing bite that only increased his arousal.

  She opened her eyes, looked up at him with wicked intentions as her hips met his. He watched the familiar crimson flush climb from her neck into her face, saw her eyes widen with pleasure.

  A soft mewing sound vibrated from her and into him as he fought to keep control. Cascades of color shimmered in his vision. Every breath was filled with the scent of springtime rain, of damp earth, cleansing air, bright sunshine.

  She arched her neck back, and Drake felt her go over the edge. He rolled her onto her back, her legs circled around his waist. Finally he could hold on no longer, and followed her, his vision exploding in a cascade of light as the climax engulfed him.

  He collapsed into her arms. They had had sex numerous times over the past week. But nothing compared to the exquisite ecstasy of this, of making love.

  They lay there for several long, quiet moments until the rumbling in Hart's stomach became insistent. With a laugh, he rolled off her.

  "Time to get up," he said.

  She closed her eyes. "I just want to lay here, to feel like this, forever."

  Another grumble from her stomach betrayed her. She blew her breath out, opened her eyes. "I can't imagine a better way to wake up."

  Knowing Hart was not a morning person, he accepted the compliment. He traced a finger around her breast. "If we were married, we could wake like that every day."

  "We don't need to be married to do that," she said, her tone reminding him he was pushing his luck.

  He didn't care; he was feeling lucky today. He stretched his body out, watching in delight as her gaze roamed over him. Feeling lucky, indeed.

  "Maybe I'm going to save myself for marriage." He grinned, batted her hand away as she teased her fingers down his abdomen. "No more sex unless you make me an honest man. Marry me."

  Her hand fell away, her forehead creased. He'd pushed the joke too far. Except it was no joke for him. She rolled away from him, walked to the bathroom.

  He followed her, but she had closed the door. Even he knew not to push that limit.

  There were reasons she painstakingly built the barriers around her heart over the years. Impatient as he was to destroy them, he knew he had to take care. She knew how he felt, that was what was important now.

  That and finding the bastard intent on destroying their lives.

  <><><>

  "I'm sorry about last night," he said once they finished their lunch at the Eat n Park. "You were right. We're in this together."

  "Together, as in equals?"

  He remembered his dreams from last night. Dreams of Hart trapped in a cave, being smothered by Richard King, locked in a dungeon. Dreams where he had saved her from King. He sighed. Maybe that's how he wished it was, but the truth was Hart had saved herself.

  He'd like to think if he knew her back then he would have been able to rescue her. But she wouldn't be the woman she was today if not for King. A woman who refused to bow to circumstances or superior strength, a woman who stood her ground.

  If he tried to take that away from her, he was no better than King.

  "Yes," he exhaled the word. "Partners. Whatever comes."

  Her face flushed slightly as she nodded her approval at his words. "I like the sound of that." She reached her hand out to take his. "Now, who's on your list of potential suspects?"

  "Same two I began with: Spanos and King."

  She frowned at that. "But isn't Tony in the clear? He chased the intruder out and he was inside the Center when the shooting happened."

  "He could have done the shooting and returned to the Center while we took cover behind the dumpster. We couldn't see the front door," he reminded her.

  "You think he's that good of an actor? Tony?"

  "Yeah. I guess. So that leaves us with King."

  "I can see Alan paying Elizabeth Reynolds to harass you. And trying to ruin my life with the malpractice case and helping Brickner get off. But a shooting and firebombing? Not his style."

  "Actually, I meant your ex, Richard King. He's not as helpless or weak as he appears."

  She waved her hand as if King wasn't even worth discussing. "I already told him no. He knows we're never g
etting back together. So what's the point of escalating things? The shooting and firebomb could have just as easily driven me into your arms. Why risk it?"

  "He's desperate. Sees you as his only hope. He's obsessed with you."

  She rolled her eyes.

  "Maybe King and Spanos together. Your ex told me he's the one who's paying Guardian Security to install the alarm system on the Center. And he hired Spanos to watch over you."

  That made her bristle. "You mean all this time Tony's been working for Richard? I thought he—" Her voice trailed off.

  "Thought what? He was doing it out of the goodness of his heart?"

  For some reason that made her flush. She looked away for a moment then said, "What about Brickner? Maybe all this was a ploy to discredit me and get him off?"

  "You really think he'd go to the trouble of hunting down Elizabeth Reynolds and convince her to move halfway across the country even though she's dying—" He stopped. "She's the key. Maybe it wasn't murder after all. Maybe it was suicide."

  "Then how did your gun end up in the dumpster?"

  "She had help to clean up after her. Someone who wanted to destroy me just as much as she did."

  "Then we're back to you being the target, not me."

  "No. We're back to us being the target. You and me together. Start thinking of it that way and it all makes sense in a perverted sort of way."

  "Maybe. But it still doesn't tell us who is behind it."

  "Flip a coin. Spanos or King. Can't think of anyone else who would want to destroy us."

  She shuddered and he regretted his flippancy. After all, a woman was dead and Hart almost killed. Serious business.

  "Do you really think either Tony or Richard would want to kill me? A few seconds either way and I wouldn't have made it out of my house. Or if I'd been asleep upstairs—"

  Now it was his turn to shiver. "Don't even say it. Maybe the firebombing and the shooting were gang related?"

  "What good am I dead to them?"

  "You'd serve as a warning to Athena."

  "A warning that would just send her further into hiding. That's not what Lucien wants. He wants that recording to make sure no one knows Baby Jane is his."

  "Too late now. You already told CYS. Nothing will stop their investigation."

  "But he doesn't know that."

  He frowned. Too many variables. His phone rang. Jimmy. "Hart there?"

  "Yeah, why?"

  "So you guys kissed and made up? About time. Does this mean you'll be bringing Denise her van back anytime soon? She's driving me crazy."

  "We're fine, Jimmy. How about you and the search for the person or persons unknown who are trying to kill Hart and who framed me for Elizabeth Reynolds' murder?"

  "Yeah, not so good. That's not why I called. Tell Hart to be on the lookout for Ronald Brickner. Seems he was a no show in court today. Judge revoked his bond, so he's now officially a fugitive. Might make him desperate enough to do something stupid."

  "Okay, thanks."

  "Oh, and Miller says to come by and pick up your badge and gun. IAD dropped all charges against you—pending the conclusion of their investigation, anyway."

  He brightened at that. "Will do."

  "Good news?" Hart asked when he hung up.

  "Yeah. IAD is giving me my badge and gun back. I just have to go pick them up."

  "That's great."

  He didn't like walking around unarmed, especially not with Hart to protect, it was like walking around naked. "We'll go together. I don't want to let you out of my sight."

  "I'll meet you at the Center. I need to return Natalie's car and I want to check on Tagger."

  Seemed safe enough. The station house was just down the street, so he'd probably beat her there anyway. "Will Tammy be at the Center?"

  "Yes. And we're expecting a delivery of drywall, so there should be some nice, hunky guys around as well." She wrinkled her nose at him. "You can't babysit me. I have a life to live."

  He sighed. "I know."

  <><><>

  When Cassie reached Ed's house, Natalie was just getting ready to leave. "Perfect timing. I was heading over to Trent's case worker and I can drop you off at the Liberty Center on my way."

  "Who's Trent?" Cassie asked with a smile. She had a feeling she knew the answer.

  "Tagger, of course. I told him no gang names in my house."

  "How'd he take that?"

  "Not so happy at first. Also not so happy about eating real food, setting the table, or not wearing that god-awful hat of his inside the house. But he's back in school and came home yesterday laughing and excited about a big art project his teacher is planning. Spent all night sketching ideas."

  "Good." She made a mental note to ask Drake to stop by to see Tagger, maybe give him some encouragement. "And Baby Jane?"

  "Gained almost half a pound already. Once her temperature stabilized she turned out to be a champion eater. I'm working with CYS on bringing her here. That way Athena can visit both her and Trent."

  This was what Cassie admired most about Natalie. The woman never gave up on anyone, not even a girl the police had labeled their number one suspect in a homicide.

  They pulled up to the Center and she was relieved Tony's van wasn't there. She wasn't sure how she felt about knowing Richard had paid Tony to watch over her—or how that colored the ex-cop's affection for her. Richard sure as hell didn't pay Tony to kiss her the other night.

  Natalie drove off with a jaunty beep-beep as Cassie ran inside, glad to be back in familiar territory. Tammy was out front putting up shelves in the reception area, her radio playing her favorite, Alicia Keys.

  "Want some help?" Cassie asked, reaching for her tool belt from the peg where Tammy had hung it. The woman was always cleaning, sorting, or straightening something.

  "Cassie, you're back!" Tammy rushed over with a big hug. "Are you okay? I heard about your house. I'm so sorry."

  "I'm fine. Just a few aches and bruises."

  "Hmmm…wish I could say the same about your hair."

  "Tagger helped me cut it."

  "Yeah, well, we can do better than that. Let me finish these and we'll go over to Miss Leila's down on Centre. She does real nice work. My treat."

  Cassie hated sitting in a hair stylist's chair. It was one of the reasons why she wore her hair long. She never knew what to say and the small talk made her nervous. But she couldn't ignore the look on Tammy's face. "Okay. Sounds like fun."

  "Good. I won't be long here."

  "I'm going to run upstairs and finish painting that last bit of trim in the day care. Just grab me when you're ready."

  It was amazing how therapeutic something as simple as painting trim could be, she thought as she carefully swished the brush back and forth. Rosa was right. As usual.

  She'd just finished the tricky bit in the far corner—without even splashing any on the floor—when Tony Spanos rushed in.

  "Thank God you're here. It's that girl. She's been hurt. I was afraid to move her."

  Cassie climbed down from her ladder. "Athena? What happened?"

  "She was over in the Stackhouse. Some debris fell on her. It's bad, Cassie. You need to hurry." He ran down the stairs and she followed.

  "Did you call EMS?"

  "Yeah, but I'm not sure she's going to last that long. I didn't know what else to do, so I took the chance you'd be here—"

  They reached his van and she jumped into the passenger seat. "I don't have any supplies."

  "Still, better than nothing," he said as he gunned the engine and roared out of the parking lot. "You're her only chance, Cassie."

  CHAPTER 34

  Drake wasn't happy to see Richard King waiting with Tammy when he arrived at the Center. Damn paperwork took longer than he'd thought. "Where's Hart?" he asked Tammy, ignoring King.

  "Upstairs in the daycare, painting."

  Good. Even Hart couldn't get hurt painting.

  "What do you want?" he asked King, not bothering to pretend at civility.<
br />
  "We need to talk." King glanced at Tammy who arched an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest, not budging an inch.

  "This way." Drake led King back into the clinic area, not worrying if the wheelchair bound man would have a problem or not. Since the ramp led to the rear entrance near the elevator, he assumed King came in through this way.

  "While my brother was in court today, I went through his office," King started. "Alan paid to bring Elizabeth Reynolds here."

  "Did he kill her?"

  King looked down as he shrugged. "From his notes it looks like he paid Tony Spanos to harass you as well."

  "Spanos was working with Reynolds." Just what he'd suspected all along. "Do you have proof?" Maybe they could tie Spanos or Alan King to Reynolds' murder as well.

  King handed him a thumb drive. "It's all there. But it was obtained illegally, so you can't use it."

  "I know that. I just want to check it out for myself. Make sure you're not involved."

  "I told you. I only want to protect Cassandra."

  "Right." Drake turned, surprised to hear the elevator. Coming up from the basement. Inside was a thin black teenager with a scar across her forehead. Athena Jackson. He wrenched the wrought iron door open and grabbed her by the arm before she could bolt.

  "What are you doing here?"

  "I was in the basement and heard the man's voice. The one from the other night."

  He whirled on King. "You. I knew—"

  Athena tugged at Drake's arm. "No, not him. The man who just left with Doc Cass. You have to warn her."

  "Left?" Drake jogged to the front of the clinic. "Tammy, didn't you say Hart was upstairs?"

  "Yeah, I thought so. She and Tony were—"

  "Spanos. Hell." He raced back to Athena. "Where were they going?"

  "He said something about the Stackhouse. That I was in trouble. But I was right here."

  Drake grabbed his cell, already dialing the station house as he flew past King. He'd only taken a step out of the door when a shot rang out, hitting the brick wall beside him. He ducked back inside, searching for the shooter.