by Vella Munn
Mara looked up at Reed, unable to read his expression. “I tried. I really tried,” she muttered, her earlier flippancy a vague memory. How could she pull herself back together? “But the whole time I was with him all I could think about was the knife and having to do exactly as he said. I knew what was going to happen.”
“Don’t think about that,” Reed said. “It’s behind you now.”
Mara clenched her fists and stared as Frank Chambers helped his wife into their car and leaned over to kiss her. “I was so sure he was going to kill me when he was done. Then I remember breathing in the night air and wanting to go on breathing. I ran. All I knew was—” Shaking off the tears building inside, Mara forced herself to relax her fingers. If she didn’t stop babbling, Reed would see the holes that had been carved in her. Only, the words kept coming. “I had to go on living. I would do anything to stay alive.”
“That’s behind you,” Reed repeated. “You’re safe.”
Mara stared down at her hands. Her nails had left sharp indentations in her palms. This unreasoning terror had to stop, now! “I know.”
“I hope so.”
Frank and Rennie Chambers were driving away. Rennie sat next to her husband, and he had his free arm around her shoulders. Rennie didn’t have to hide her fear from her husband. But Mara couldn’t bear to disappoint Reed. “What? Yes. Of course.”
Reed took Mara’s hand and began massaging the slight wounds she’d inflicted on herself. “Are you sure?”
“I’m mad,” Mara lied. “I should be able to help more.” She blinked. It didn’t help the dry heat behind her eyes. “If…if only I’d looked at him.”
“You did the best you could do. That’s all any of us can do. Mara, are you going to be all right?”
“All right?” With an effort, Mara met Reed’s eyes, nearly undone by the concern she found in them. “Of course I am. I just didn’t know what to expect. I was a little unnerved, but…thank you for coming. I know how hard it was for you to find time.”
“It’s something I wanted to do for you.” Reed touched a thumb to Mara’s chin, tipping her head upward for a kiss. “Something I needed to do.”
After running to her students and allowing Clint to pull her aside so she could pass on what had, or rather what hadn’t happened, Mara moved like a zombie through the afternoon session. She waited until she was alone before calling Detective Kline. She wanted to apologize, again, for the way the lineup had turned out. “Is he—did you have to let him go?”
“I’m afraid so. He frightened the girl at the supermarket, but he didn’t commit a crime. We didn’t have any choice.”
“Oh.” The word came out in a long breath. “Detective? Maybe I have no business asking this, but do you think he was the one?”
“Between you and me, I think it’s a good thing that girl had the presence of mind to go back into the store. But whether he’s the same man who abducted you, I’m not going to swear to it. Are you going to be alone tonight?”
Mara hadn’t expected that question. It was still daylight, but suddenly she could sense the coming night. Maybe if she drew the curtains now, made sure the gun was loaded… “Why?”
“Because you might feel some backlash from what you went through.”
Where was Reed?
No matter how she tried to fill the evening, Mara couldn’t put an end to that question. If only there was some way she could reach him. He’d left without telling her where he was going; she hadn’t thought to ask. Now, with several hours between her and what she’d weathered, she’d had time to think through the emotions she’d kept from him, time to regret her decision.
Tonight with the blinds drawn and Lobo pacing in the living room and the gun a cold, heavy weight in her lap, Mara felt compelled to tell Reed everything.
He would accept that she wasn’t the strong, resourceful woman she’d pretended to be, or he wouldn’t. He could understand that the instinct for survival had allowed her to say things to her attacker that made her sick just to think about, or he wouldn’t. She’d turn to him for understanding the way Rennie Chambers turned to her husband, and if Reed was a man worthy of her love, he would understand.
If he wasn’t…
“Oh, Lobo,” she told her dog when the large animal settled in front of the door, sighing restlessly. “I’ve tried so hard to convince him I’m something I’m not. What’s so impossible about the truth?”
Lobo didn’t have the answers. All he could do was cock his head when the telephone rang.
Mara snatched the receiver. “Reed?” she blurted without thinking. He’d told her he wouldn’t be able to get in touch with her. Why had she called out his name?
Silence.
Mara frowned. “Hello? Hello. Is anyone there?”
More silence.
For almost a half minute, Mara stood with the phone pressed to her ear, listening. Then, with the hairs on the back of her neck rising, she hung up the receiver. “Wrong number,” she told Lobo. She didn’t know if she believed that.
The phone rang again five minutes later. This time Mara waited until after the third ring before reaching out with numb fingers and picking up the receiver. She listened to silence for a few seconds before saying anything. Once again no one answered.
It wasn’t funny! If this was some kid’s idea of a joke… Mara dismissed the thought. Maybe it wasn’t a random call. A man had been forced to stand in a lineup. He, if he was her attacker, had a pretty good idea who would be on the other side of the glass. And now, tonight, the phone had rung twice.
Make that three times, Mara thought when once again the phone shattered the silence. This time she let the ringing continue until Lobo started to whine. She should have turned on her answering machine. Only, if she did that, the act would serve as further proof of her cowardice.
“Hello,” Mara whispered.
Silence. Damnable silence.
“Don’t do this!” No. She wouldn’t lose control. “You’re sick. I hope you know that. You are sick.”
Silence.
“You’re a coward. A stinking, shriveling coward.” Emotion formed Mara’s words; she had no control over what was coming out of her. She understood only that fury and fear were kin. “I don’t know what you think you’re trying to prove, but it isn’t going to work. Do you hear me? If it was up to me, you’d spend the rest of your life in prison.”
She could hear breathing.
The sound acted like a pin puncturing a balloon. The words Mara had just uttered echoed through her. She’d gone on the attack. Issued a challenge. If that animal wasn’t a total coward, maybe he would accept the challenge.
Maybe he would come after her.
For too long after slamming down the receiver, Mara stared, her thoughts going nowhere and everywhere. Then, because she had to do something, she dialed Detective Kline’s office. He wasn’t there and the best that the man who answered could offer was to pass on Mara’s information.
“Phone calls don’t mean anything,” the officer, who sounded barely out of his teens, explained. “I wouldn’t let them get to you. But, yeah, we’ll have a patrol come out your way.”
“I’d appreciate that.”
After the police patrol came and went, Mara spent the rest of the night on the couch, her legs curled up against her body, the phone off the hook, her ears tuned for the slightest sound or movement outside.
Lobo slept.
Chapter Thirteen
In the morning, Mara showered quickly, her ears tuned to any sound. Without being aware of what she was doing, she put on the same clothes she’d worn yesterday and passed on coffee because her nerves were already jangling.
What was Reed doing?
“Call,” she whispered. “Please let me know you’re safe.”
The sound of Clint’s car rumbling down the drive almost reduced her to tears. It felt so good to have someone around!
A moment later Mara was furious at herself as much as the stranger who’d turned her
night into hell. This pale woman with hollowed-out eyes she saw in the mirror wasn’t her. Somehow, somehow, she would get herself back!
“How are you doing?” Clint asked by way of greeting. “I’m sorry things turned out the way they did.”
“I am too.” Clint headed toward the kitchen and whatever he could rustle up for breakfast. That turned out to be Mara’s salvation. If he’d said any more about the attack she might have told him about the phone calls and then had to listen to his anger and frustration, when her own emotions were all she could deal with right now. She trailed into the kitchen after him. “Don’t you ever eat at home?” she asked as he opened the refrigerator.
“Sure I do. But I’m a growing boy. You didn’t make any coffee.”
“That’s right. I didn’t.”
Clint turned. “And you’re wearing what you had on yesterday.”
Because she couldn’t think of a thing to say to that, Mara simply shrugged. She left Clint to dismantle her kitchen while she went in search of shoes. She was sitting on her bed tying the laces when the phone rang. The sound undid everything she’d gained since last night.
“You want me to get it?” Clint yelled when it rang again.
“No.” Her voice was higher pitched than she wanted it. If this was a repeat of last night, she’d turn the phone over to Clint. Maybe his deep tones would make an impact.
“You sound wonderful,” Reed whispered almost before she was done saying hello.
Reed. The strength went out of her, and she sank down on the bed. “Where are you? Or maybe you can’t tell me.”
“I’m in Reno. I flew out on a private plane not long after seeing you, thanks to our friend Zack. But I should be back in San Diego later today.”
He was out of the state. He hadn’t been anywhere around when her phone rang last night. “Reno. That was fast. Are things…going all right?”
“Confusing. A little tense. I’m going to be alone tonight.”
“Oh.”
“Can I come out?”
Mara couldn’t stand the idea of spending another evening at home, even with Reed here. The phone might ring. “No.” Hating the quick way the word came out, she tried again. “It’s been rather hectic. A lot of things piling up. Could— Is there anywhere else we could meet?”
“Of course. Mara? Are you sure you’re all right? You sound tense.”
“No. No. I’m fine. I’m just glad you called.”
“I needed to hear that,” Reed said with a soft warmth that erased a great deal of what Mara had been through. “You could come to my hotel. If you want.”
“Wouldn’t that be a problem?”
“I honestly don’t believe so, but that has to be your decision. You do understand that someone might see you with me, don’t you? Someone who thinks they know who I am.”
Mara understood what Reed was getting at. If she was spotted going into Reed’s room, that person or persons would think she was connected with the persona he’d created. “If you say it’s all right, I believe you. I just don’t want to do anything that might make things more difficult for you.”
Reed’s voice was low. “There haven’t been any women in here. I’ve taken a couple out because it’s expected, but none of them have been in my room. You believe that, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Mara, I wouldn’t have you come here if I thought there was any danger. The reason I brought this up is that the people I’ve been dealing with are bound to wonder whether I have any private life. Seeing a woman come into my room…”
“Reed,” Mara interrupted. “You don’t have to explain. The thought that I might be able to help, well, it’s the least I can do. After all, you must know how much it meant to me to have you there at the lineup.”
The day jerked along, sometimes at a pace faster than Mara could keep up with, sometimes crawling. When Clint mentioned that the balky loaner wasn’t running right again, she snapped that she had more important things to do. Clint stared but said nothing about her uncharacteristic show of temper.
During her lunch break she put in a call to the police station. Detective Kline was eating at his desk. Between bites he told her there was nothing on his desk to indicate she’d called last night. He was glad she’d insisted on having someone come out. “We take on these college kids who get class credit for helping out the department. Sometimes they know what they’re doing and other times… Have you had calls like this before?”
Mara explained that she’d had her share of wrong numbers. It happened occasionally with a business. “But this time I know someone was on the other end. If this is someone’s idea of a joke…”
The detective offered a couple of possibilities. The only one she really heard was that it might have been her attacker. If that was the case, Kline suggested strongly that Mara either move or find someone to stay with her. If nothing else, Mara should get her number changed. She couldn’t, she reminded him. This was both her home and business phone.
“Let me know if it happens again,” the detective finished. “I don’t want to blow things out of proportion. But neither do I want to make light of it.”
Mara took time for a shower after work and then drove herself to distraction trying to decide what to wear. In the end she chose a dress because she needed to feel feminine. The skirt of the pale yellow, summerweight cotton was full and draped loosely around her legs. She didn’t bother with pantyhose. Her sandals were a few ounces of white leather. A thin gold chain accented her throat and hid the mark left by the knife point.
The Hotel Corinthian was at least forty years old and spoke of a timeless elegance. Mara thought the presence of a doorman and the grandeur of the lobby a little much, but if this was where Reed needed to be seen, she would accept it. Because Reed had suggested it, she made a show of asking the man at the front desk for directions to Lane Reaves’s room. After an appreciative appraisal of the woman asking after one of their longtime guests, the concierge directed Mara to the eleventh floor. She barely heard the muted music in the elevator and paid scant attention to the middle-aged woman fiddling with her pearls who shared the ride with her. Only one thing mattered: Reed.
“You’re here.”
His eyes said so much. His hands stretching toward her were life giving. His words made everything right. Mara had no memory of which of them closed the door.
“Too long,” Reed muttered with his body pressed against hers and his strength becoming hers. “Too long without you.”
“I missed you.”
“I hate being apart.”
She hated it, too. Now, with his mouth tight against hers and the world painted in shades of love, everything was right in her world. “You’re all right?” Reed asked.
“We’re together,” she said by way of answer.
“I know.” He held her so tightly that Mara grew alarmed. She leaned back, searching his gaze. Whatever he was thinking was hidden behind dark lashes and blue eyes sliding into dusky slate. “But you haven’t answered my question. Are you all right?”
“Why shouldn’t I be?”
“You’re the only one who can answer that, Mara. I’m sorry,” he went on when she remained silent. “I shouldn’t keep questioning you like that. It’s the things I’ve been doing. The people I have to deal with.”
“Don’t. Reed, just don’t,” Mara whispered. “If that’s what you’re going to talk about…”
“No. It isn’t,” Reed whispered back.
Mara wasn’t enough weight in his arms. The ease with which he carried her into the bedroom shocked him. She should have more substance to her. This woman, who’d taken possession of parts of him he hadn’t known he had, was so light. So easily lost.
But Reed refused to think about the painful leave-taking that would punctuate the end of their night together. She’d come to him, willingly, freely, because she, he hoped, wanted him as much as he needed her.
He would use these hours together to come to grips with her impact on
him.
“Is this too soon?” They stood at the entrance to the bedroom. “Maybe… If I’m rushing…”
“No. We can talk later.”
“Later,” Reed repeated as he lay her on the bed. “Later.”
Mara shuddered. Reed stroked her shoulders, pressing her against the sheet, stilling the movement. She wore a dress. It was pale yellow, an illusion of fabric that could be destroyed if he wasn’t careful. But it was so damn hard not to rush the disrobing when there was so much he needed from her, so little he had a right to ask for.
She lay quiet and ready, her eyes huge, making new inroads into his heart. His body became an electric current pulsing with need and want, but if he simply tapped that, if he ignored everything else, their lovemaking would touch only one dimension. Yes, he wanted her, to feel her hot response, to push both of them as far and fast as they could go. She would let him do that; her hands and lips and body would help rush the journey.
But the texture of their lovemaking should be full and rich, a blending of everything.
A transcending of the hard fact that until he was free of this commitment, all he could give her were stolen moments.
Reed kicked off his shoes and sat beside her. He leaned forward, in awe of the fragile gift of her body. He felt her fingers on his back drawing him even closer, and then covered her breasts, one with his hand, the other with his mouth. He felt the hard points, in his palm and against his tongue.
His fingers told the story Reed didn’t have words for. His lips and tongue painted a silent picture. If he searched for words, they might not be enough, or they might be too much. He might wind up bringing both of them face-to-face with how much more he wanted to give her of himself, how little control he had over that. But he could touch and taste and worship silently. She wore nothing but a shimmer of gold around her throat. Reed concentrated on that. It became his focal point, his contact with sanity.
Slowly, beautifully, Mara did for him what he’d done for her. First his shirt went. She reared up and ran her tongue down his chest before falling back on the bed. She tugged at his jeans. He moved quickly, awkwardly, helping her. And then while he lay beside her she slipped his briefs down over his hips, and he gave up what was left of him.