He drove himself deep inside. “You’re like an oven.”
She met his thrusts, harder and faster until, she cried out his name.
“Say it again.” He increased his speed and pressure.
“Linc,” she said. “Come with me.”
A loud primal roar burst from him as he pulsed in time with her contractions. Then he slid the pillow from under her, turned her on her side, and then wrapped around her like a protective blanket. Neither spoke for a long time. His body hadn’t relaxed, and Samantha knew the murder had crept into his thoughts.
“I’m sorry about Sylvia. I know you and the staff were devastated.”
“I can’t make sense out of it. Why? What happened?”
“I hope the police solve the case quickly.” She turned to face him. “You can’t blame yourself.”
“How can I go back to work? Walk away from two unsolved murders?”
“The doctor hasn’t released you yet.”
“That gives me less than two weeks.”
A sharp pain sliced into her heart. She had even less time with him. With a soft kiss to his lips, she rolled back over, and pulled his arm over her. Would he still want to buy The Cage after he went back to work? Tomorrow was soon enough to worry about the future. She closed her eyes just to rest for a minute.
****
Samantha stretched her hand across the cool sheet and discovered she was alone in bed. She ran to the bathroom, came out and spotted one of Linc’s t-shirts on the back of a chair. She slipped it over her head, inhaling deeply as his scent engulfed her, committing the woodsy aroma that was all Linc to memory. She wandered to the kitchen and found him fixing breakfast.
“Good morning.”
He smiled over his shoulder. “Your timing is perfect.”
“You’re going to spoil me.”
“I sure hope so. I don’t cook for just anybody.” He poured a cup of coffee, handed it to her with a kiss to the top of her head. “Have a seat on the balcony.”
“I’m not arguing with those orders.” His shirt covered all her important bits, so Samantha carried the mug outside and plopped down in one of the two chairs next to a small wrought iron table.
Facing the ocean, she watched sea gulls dive into the ocean, snagging their own breakfast and listened to the sound of water slipping onto the shore. The word peaceful came to mind, making her wish for more mornings like this one. She quickly pushed that ridiculous thought from her mind. Linc was not in love with her, and she most certainly hadn’t fallen for him.
“I hope you’re hungry.” He sat two plates and silverware on the table. “I got a little carried away.”
“You did at that.” She laughed at the pile of bacon, eggs, and toast.
They ate in silence and she insisted on clearing the table. When she returned to the balcony, he’d moved his chair next to hers. They relaxed as the beach came to life. The sounds of laughter occasionally worked their way up to them. The wind increased as the sun warmed the morning, causing big waves to race up the sand.
“Breakfast was wonderful.”
“Thank you. I like a woman who eats instead of pushing her food around with a fork.”
“I understand my grandfather’s affection for the ocean. It’s magnificent. I also get that a person could be afraid of its power.”
“Me too. That’s why I never tried to change Charlie’s mind.”
“Where does your family grow apples?” If her change of subject surprised him, he didn’t show it.
“In Southern California, in the mountains. I’m the middle child with a brother on either side. Taylor fell in love back when he was in college. Married her and lives in Montana.” Linc chuckled. “Adam may never find anyone to put up with him. He’s an oceanographer and is never at home. Are you noticing anything peculiar about our names?”
Samantha thought for a minute. “Nothing jumps out at me.”
“Presidents’ last names. I don’t think it had anything to do with their accomplishments while in office. Taylor, Lincoln, and Adams worked because they could be used as first names.” Linc’s affection for his brothers softened his expression.
“Your family is very close, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, we are. After I was attacked, the entire bunch dropped everything and flew to Texas. As soon as I was able to travel, I was hustled back to one of the best reconstruction surgeons in the US. It’s good to have family.”
“I suppose so.” Samantha wished for her words back. “So who inherits the apple grove?”
“None of us want to run an orchard. My parents get it. What about you? Now that you don’t have to work, what will you do?”
“Well, I was going to tell you about my change of plans last night, but we got sidetracked.”
“Is that what you Texans call it? Sidetracked? I like it.” He leaned across and kissed her. At first the kiss just grazed her lips, but his second pass was deep and sensuous as his tongue explored the inside of her mouth.
Her brain went blank. “What were we talking about?”
“Your plans.” He caught the arms of her chair and turned her to face him. A sly grin slid across his face. “If I’m right…” His words trailed off. “Uncross your legs.”
Heat hit her face. “What?”
“Come on. Uncross them and scoot forward in your chair.”
Samantha did as he asked trying hard not to expose her semi nudity. He positioned his chair directly in front of her and slipped his hand between her legs. His fingers found her bare and already damp.
“Oh my God,” he growled under his breath. “I love how quickly your body responds.”
“We’re rather exposed.” She gasped as he rubbed in circles.
“Only to the wind. The half wall prevents anyone for seeing what I’m doing.” A finger slid into her. “How does that feel?”
She stared at him. Unaccustomed to chatting during sex, she bit down on her bottom lip as he rubbed his thumb and finger back and forth.
“Tell me.”
“Wonderful. Do more.”
“With pleasure. Close your eyes and leave the rest to me.” She complied and fought not to open them as his hand increased the pressure. “Turn off the sound. There is no ocean. No birds. No voices. There is only me.” A second finger joined the first. “I am going to watch you come.”
Samantha obliged with an orgasm that rushed through her system and had her bucking against his hand. She opened her eyes and met his gaze. “That could become habit forming.”
“You are even more beautiful when you climax.” He helped her sit up, turned his chair back toward the beach, and then passed her coffee to her. “What were we discussing?”
“I’m going to Dallas long enough to wrap up some loose ends, pack a few more clothes, and then I’m coming back. With you leaving, I’m thinking Dave might need an extra hand.”
“I think that’s a great idea. Charlie would be thrilled.” Linc stood, gathered the dishes and went inside.
Samantha sat there stunned. Had she been fishing? Had she wanted Linc to show some enthusiasm at her decision? All she got was that Charlie would have been thrilled. Linc had been up front with her. This was a long weekend and nothing more. She hurried inside, grabbed some clothes from her overnight bag, and hit the shower. He was wiping down the balcony table when she returned.
“Your phone buzzed. While you take care of business, I’ll shower. We have a while before work. I’ll take you sightseeing.”
Samantha retrieved her cell, still surprised how she kept forgetting it existed. Back home it was by her side constantly, like a loyal companion. She leaned against the kitchen counter and stared in amazement. Dylan Smythe had left ten texts and three voice mails. She started with the oldest and read them in order. Even though her hand trembled, she forced herself to listen to each message. Each one got more frantic, escalating to threats. Samantha backed up on a stool and sat, placing her phone on the countertop not wanting to touch it.
“Let�
�s contact Sylvia’s family and offer our…” Linc stopped in front of her, caught her chin, and then tipped her face up. “What’s wrong?”
Samantha’s thoughts were all over the place. Emotions swirled between anger, confusion and fear. “I want you to read my texts and listen to the messages. Tell me what you think.”
“Okay.” Linc cupped her face in his hands. “Come sit on the couch. You’re pale enough to scare even me. Whatever has happened, we’ll handle it.”
“Dylan Smythe happened.” Sitting wasn’t what she wanted to do, so she handed Linc her cell and paced. “The son of a bitch is crazy. Or he was drunk.”
****
Linc’s blood pressure rose with each of Dylan’s texts. No wonder Sam was pacing. Each one had gotten progressively stranger. Linc read them a second time, looking for phrasing patterns that might indicate whether Dylan had been drunk.
The first was benign: “I want to apologize for my behavior last night. Please call me and allow me to make amends.”
The second was calm but weird: “I was overwhelmed by your beauty. And maybe a little jealous of the way that bartender looked at you.”
Linc considered that a minute. He hadn’t tried to hide his affection for Sam, but that should have meant nothing to Dylan.
Linc quickly moved to the third text: “Surely, I wasn’t such an ass you would deem me unworthy of a response. We’re going to become more than business partners. Believe me.”
“He’s pretty far out there.”
Sam stopped in mid-step. “He’s probably one of those men who think all women should fall at his feet.” She shook her shoulders as if shaking off a bad idea. Her hands clenched and unclenched. “Keep reading.”
Linc scrolled to the fourth text and read out loud this time: “Seriously? You’re punishing me for being rude. I’m going to give you everything you could ever want. Please, don’t continue this silent treatment.”
The fifth text read: “I get it. You want me to beg. It’s not something I’m accustomed to but here goes…please. Please don’t punish me. We connected last night. I felt it, saw it in your eyes.”
The sixth and seventh consisted of more pleading and more insistence that he and Sam had experienced an instant love connection. The eighth text had taken an alarming turn: “Who the fuck do you think you are? Nobody disrespects me. Understand? I expect to hear from you soon.”
Nine and ten were exactly the same: “You will regret ignoring me.”
Linc scrubbed his hand over his face. “He’s unstable for sure.”
“The voice mails are even stranger. All three came hours after the last text was sent.”
Linc stood, walked to her, and slid his arm around her waist. “You’re angry, as you should be, but you can’t give in to fear. That’s what he wants.”
“You haven’t listened to his voice messages.” Sam leaned into him, resting her head on his chest. “I think he has a split personality.”
Sam’s body trembled against Linc’s chest. It wasn’t a big shudder, more like a tiny vibration, but enough to send him to the edge of anger. An angry man didn’t think straight and usually made costly mistakes, but this was personal, not only because he’d promised Charlie he’d protect her, Linc couldn’t bear the idea of anyone hurting her.
“I don’t know your password.”
She stepped back, took her cell, and then tapped a few numbers. “I’ll dress while you listen.” Sam put the phone in his hand and left the room.
Smythe’s tone was eerily calm and firm: “Samantha, I’m sorry to have missed you. My attorney will contact you Monday with a generous but firm offer to purchase all of Charles Pearson’s real estate holdings. Please consider this opportunity, as you won’t get a higher bid.”
Linc played each message again. The man on the phone spoke clearly and concise without a single angry overtone. The cadence of Dylan’s words and the tone of his voice were calm and pleasant. The words he had spoken in all three voice mails had been verbatim.
“So what do you think?” Sam stood in the doorway.
Wearing no makeup, she was fresh faced and stunning. Her hair had been pulled back and the eraser end of a pencil seemed to have sprouted from her head. She wore sandals, shorts and a T-shirt with a picture of Blake Shelton stretched across her breasts. If he hadn’t known better, he’d have thought her a teenager.
“I think you are beautiful. And I believe that this is the first time in your life that you’re actually doing what you want.” He put her phone on the counter. “But if you were referring to Dylan Smythe, I’d say the man who sent those texts started out calm and escalated in minutes. Yet the phone calls you received hours later sounded rehearsed and reasonable, except for the fact he repeated himself. I won’t hazard a guess at what disorder he’s displaying with those symptoms. Yet, I’ve interviewed coke-heads who sounded just like him.”
Sam tilted her head as she crossed to him wearing a huge smile. “That’s the first time you’ve sounded like an FBI agent.”
“Really? It wasn’t intentional.”
“Actually, it was pretty hot.”
“Does that mean you’re interested in handcuffs?” He pulled her tight against him. Her soft body molded, fitting his as if made for him. Her smile was contagious.
“I’ll pass.” She looked up at him. “There is one place I wanted to go.”
“Wanted as in past tense?”
“I’m afraid so.” Her fingers trailed down his cheek. “You’re so serious.”
“It’s a hazard of the trade. While you’re gone, I’ll keep digging into Charlie’s acquaintances.”
“You’ll be gone before I return.” A cloak of sadness covered her eyes.
Linc had never met anyone whose inner feelings were so clearly displayed on their face. “Depends on how long you stay in Texas. But this is my home, I’ll always come back. In the meantime, tell me what you wanted to do.”
“Go to the bank. I would like to get Charlie’s medals for you, but I have to wait until the will is probated to get them.”
“You’re buying trouble. I’m counting on being assigned to the L.A. office.”
“I hope you get your wish. Before we go anywhere, I need to call my grandmother. If Jules Smythe contacts her, she needs to know how his son is behaving.”
“You’re right. Read her those messages and she’ll steer clear of him.” Linc fished his cell from his pocket. “Where does your grandmother live when she’s not playing poker?”
“Her home is in Fort Worth, and she has a condo in Henderson, Nevada.”
Sam took her cell out on the balcony while Linc searched the documents he’d brought home from the restaurant for information on Sylvia. He hadn’t started digging through all of Charlie’s employees or business contacts, so he’d start with her. A sad way to begin, but Linc was working against the clock.
CHAPTER 16
Leo parked his car outside the high-rise building, got out, and then shielded his eyes from the glare coming off the all glass structure. Gambling was a lucrative business and the boss’s office was living proof. Getting called on the carpet and having his ass reamed was getting old. He just needed one good run with the cards then he and Jen would disappear.
The money drop had doubled without warning, leaving him scurrying about like a squirrel hiding acorns. Shit, didn’t the boss know he had to be able to justify the large deposits at a moment’s notice? Leo had created fake invoices, stamped them paid, fabricated bogus receipts showing the restaurant to be more profitable than it had ever been. At the same time, he juggled two accounts at separate banks. No worries as long as the government didn’t get nosy. He had a set of books ready to go in case the court ordered an audit for inheritance tax purposes.
With all the shit happening at The Cage, nobody was playing him any attention. Skimming a little off the top of the restaurant and the gambling receipts, he could build a bankroll, and then hit the tables.
His luck was due to change.
He pushed open the door and the secretary actually smiled. Leo relaxed as she waved him in to the boss’s office without delay. Today was looking up.
Until he found Dylan, leaning back in his daddy’s chair with his feet propped up on the desk.
“Have a seat.” Dylan dropped his feet to the floor, picked up a razor blade and drew a line out of a small pile of white powder. He pushed the mirror across in front of Leo. “This is grade A shit. Try it.”
“I’ll pass. Thanks anyway.”
Dylan shrugged, pulled the dope back in front of himself and snorted the entire line. “Holy fuck. You don’t know what you’re missing.”
“Where’s your dad?” Leo just wanted to know why he was here.
“What the fuck is it to you? I’m your boss now. Remember?” Dylan stood moving around the room as if unable to set still.
“You’re right. What can I do for you?”
“I’ll tell you. My father has hated me since the day I was borne. Thinks I’m too effeminate — a pussy, as he like to calls me. Or his latest, a fuck up. You,” he jabbed a finger in Leo’s direction, “…are going to help me change his opinion.”
“I don’t like getting between family members.” Leo knew the second he spoke that he’d made a mistake.
“Do I look like I give a fuck what you like?”
“No. Tell me what you want.”
“A bonfire. I want a fucking huge bonfire.”
****
Samantha chatted with Nana longer than she’d planned. Both agreed that the Smythe Corporation would not be allowed to purchase any part of Charlie’s estate. Samantha joined Linc at the dining table. He had a stack of folders in front of him.
“How’s your grandmother?” He spoke without lifting his gaze from the page.
“She’s glad you’re watching my back…her words.”
“How can I help?” Samantha sat in the chair closest to him. He pushed a stack on folder her direction.
“Start with these. Charlie was in business a long time. I’m hoping that over the years, he made friends with a few of his suppliers. Maybe he mentioned something in passing to one of them that might be helpful.”
Till The Dead Speak (Killer Affections Book 2) Page 15