He backed her up to the bed, bent his head and suckled her breast. She moaned with pleasure, then pulled his shirt loose from his pants. When she unbuckled his belt and unzipped his slacks, he shoved her down on the bed, then hurriedly removed his holster and laid it on the floor. He divested himself of the rest of his clothes, tossing them haphazardly onto the floor.
The moment he came to her, big, hard and fully aroused, Bethany pulled him down on top of her, then urged him to turn over and allow her the dominant position. He turned, lifting her, taking her with him.
Lying flat on his back, Bethany straddling him, he grinned. "Is this the way you want me, honey?"
"Yes," she said. "Just like that."
She kissed him, then nibbled at his mouth. When he reached up to grab her, she manacled his big wrists and threw his arms above his head, holding him down as she rubbed her breasts across his hairy chest.
When he groaned deep in his throat, Bethany smiled, loving the feeling of power she possessed. "Just lie there. Don't touch me. Not yet."
"You're running this show, honey. Do whatever you want to me."
She began a sensual assault that soon had Morgan regretting that he'd agreed to her demands. She covered every inch of his body with her marauding mouth, her hot, enticing tongue and her tormenting fingers.
He realized that the glorious attention she gave him came from her own desperate need, but when she eased downward and flicked her tongue over him, he ceased to think coherently. Easing her hand under his buttocks, she used her fingers to excite him, while her mouth pleasured him, quickly bringing him to the edge of fulfillment.
When he felt himself losing control, he pulled her upward, then flipped her onto her back and thrust into her. She met him lunge for lunge, returning to him all that he gave her. Their mouths mated with the same wild urgency while they tossed and tumbled, consumed by the fury of their passion. Their climaxes came simultaneously, so perfectly in tune were their hearts and minds and bodies.
As the aftershocks of completion rippled through them, Morgan lifted Bethany in his arms, eased under the covers and held her close, whispering her name, his lips caressing her damp neck.
Bethany clung to him, afraid that time was running out. She would take all that he offered now, knowing there might well be no tomorrow for them.
* * *
What the hell was all that noise? Morgan roused from a deep sleep, his eyelids fluttering as he tried to open his eyes. Bethany's breasts pressed against his back. Her slender arm draped his waist
She groaned. Awakening slowly, Morgan realized that his cellular phone, inside his coat that lay on the floor, was ringing insistently. And someone was knocking on the door.
Rising to a sitting position, he tossed the covers to the foot of the bed and gave Bethany a gentle shake. She groaned again, then opened her eyes to narrow slits.
"What is it?" she asked. "What's that awful sound?"
"Wake up, honey." He gave her another gentle shake. "We've got company. Someone's knocking on the door, and my cell phone's ringing."
She shot straight up, totally oblivious to her nakedness. "What if it's Anne Marie? How will I ever explain—"
"Morgan!" Eileen Farraday's soft, sweet, Southern voice demanded in a loud whisper. "Morgan Kane, wake up. There's a man downstairs who says you sent for him."
The phone continued ringing. "Dammit!" He crawled out of bed, rummaged through their discarded clothes until he found his jacket, then lifted it off the floor. He picked up his rumpled shirt and tossed it to Bethany. "Here, honey, put this on and go calm your mother down before she wakes the whole house."
Bethany slipped into the shirt, buttoning it quickly, then jumped out of bed and ran to the door. Easing it open just a fraction, she peeped out at her mother.
"Bethany?" Eileen's mouth gaped, forming a horizontal oval. "I should have known."
"What do you want, Mother?"
"It's nearly eleven o'clock."
"We didn't get to bed until dawn," Bethany said. "What's this about some man being downstairs waiting on Morgan?"
Morgan answered the phone. "Kane here. Could you hold for just a second?" He hissed at Bethany. Widening her eyes questioningly, she glanced back at him. "It's probably Hawk. I called him before I came to bed last night. Tell Eileen that no matter how intimidating he looks, he's not in the habit of killing anyone before noon."
Bethany grinned, then forced a mock frown as she glared disapprovingly at Morgan. Turning back to her mother, she said, "Mr. Hawk is an associate of Morgan's. Why don't you have Mrs. Volz serve him some breakfast while he's waiting?"
"Bethany, the man has a ponytail hanging halfway down his back and a gold earring in his ear and a tattoo on his hand and … and he looks foreign. I mean he speaks perfectly good English, without an accent, but he looks Mexican or Cuban or Indian … or something."
"The man is Morgan's colleague. They work together. Morgan sent for him."
"He drove up on a motorcycle." Eileen issued that last bit of information as if it was the final damnation.
Annoyed to the point of screaming, Bethany sighed loudly. Releasing some of her exasperation, she reached out into the hallway and grabbed her mother's arm. "Go downstairs and invite Mr. Hawk for breakfast. Put on your best Southern belle act and keep him entertained until Morgan comes down."
Morgan tried to ignore Bethany's conversation with her mother. "Sorry about asking you to wait, Varner. Things are a bit hectic around here this morning."
"I have some news that I thought you'd want to hear immediately," Hal Varner said. "I'm at Carraway Medical Center."
"What happened?" Morgan retrieved his slacks from the floor.
"The paramedics brought in a man who was found at the WHNB studio. He was in one of the stalls in the men's rest room. The guy's been beaten. He took several hard blows to the head and shoulders."
"Is he still alive?"
"Barely," Detective Varner said. "He's in a coma. The doctors aren't giving very good odds on his recovery."
"Have you ID'd him?"
"Name's Linc Prescott. He's some sort of roving reporter. He's only been at WHNB a few months."
"What's your take on the attack?" Morgan asked as he wriggled into his slacks.
"No suspects. Nobody saw a thing. But the doctors say he was probably beaten and left unconscious several hours before anyone found him."
"Could there be a connection between this man's beating and the attack on Bethany and me last night?" Morgan zipped his slacks.
"Your guess is as good as mine, but I've got a funny feeling in my gut about this one," Varner admitted. "If Linc Prescott saw who stole James Farraday's car last night, then our murderer might have struck again. This time to protect himself."
"Or herself."
"I'm posting an officer outside the ICU. As long as Prescott's alive, I'll keep him guarded. We might get lucky and he'll come out of the coma and identify his attacker."
"I may send someone down to check things out and wait around to see if Prescott regains consciousness," Morgan said. "His name's Hawk. He won't interfere. He'll keep a low profile."
"I wouldn't allow you so much leeway, Kane, if I didn't believe Ms. Wyndham was innocent of Farraday's murder."
"I'll owe you one when this is all over and the real killer's behind bars. Thanks, Varner." Morgan flipped his phone closed and slipped it into his slacks pocket.
Bethany slammed the door shut and turned to face him. With flushed cheeks and shimmering eyes, she gritted her teeth and groaned as she shook her fists.
"My mother can be such an idiot! From the way she's acting about your associate, you'd think Attila the Hun had invaded Mountain Brook."
Morgan chuckled. "Well, your assessment isn't far off, honey. Don't blame Eileen too much. You haven't seen Hawk. The man's quite formidable. Your mother isn't the first person he's put the fear of God into."
"Well, I'm sure Mother will find a way to deal with Mr. Hawk. I've never seen a
man yet that Eileen Dow Farraday couldn't charm, if she set her mind to it." Bethany draped her arms around Morgan's neck and planted a kiss on his chin.
"Who was that on the phone?"
"Hal Varner."
Bethany's heart skipped a beat. She stared quizzically at Morgan.
"A reporter named Linc Prescott was found in the men's bathroom at WHNB earlier this morning. He'd been hit in the head. He's in a coma at Carraway."
"I know Linc Prescott. He and Tony are big buddies. Jimmy liked Linc. I remember him saying that Linc would be his second choice to take over Wake Up Birmingham."
"Well, somebody didn't like Linc," Morgan said. "Maybe the guy saw or heard something he wasn't supposed to."
"You think there's some connection between Linc's assault and the attack on us last night, don't you?"
Morgan drew her hands from around his neck, lifted them to his lips and kissed her knuckles. "It's possible. Varner and I both have a hunch that this Prescott guy saw whoever stole James's Porsche last night."
"And that person certainly didn't want Linc to tell anyone."
"We're only guessing. It could be there's no connection. We'll just have to wait and hope Prescott comes out of the coma long enough to tell us who tried to kill him."
* * *
After a quick shower and a change into clean clothes, Morgan went into Bethany's room and hurried her along. She barely had time to apply her lipstick and secure her hair with a gold clasp before he rushed her downstairs.
They found Eileen entertaining her guest over brunch in the dining room. Obviously Eileen had gotten over her initial fear of their intruder. She was bestowing her million-dollar smile on him and mouthing off some nonsense about being unable to speak one word of Spanish.
Morgan had been right, Bethany thought. Hawk was formidable. Big, dark and deadly, with piercing black eyes and an aura of danger that reminded her of a predatory animal. All he needed to give a believable performance as Dracula was pale skin, fangs and a black cape. Instead he was dressed in black jeans and a black cotton shirt, with a pair of black leather boots covering his big feet.
The minute she and Morgan entered the dining room, Hawk stood, gave her a quick visual survey, then lifted a large envelope off the table.
"Dane sent this. The information was faxed to the office during the night." Hawk handed the envelope to Morgan.
"Sit down and finish your breakfast." Morgan took the envelope out of Hawk's hand, then turned to Bethany. "Honey, would you mind getting me a cup of coffee?"
"Would y'all like Mrs. Volz to serve your breakfast now?" Eileen asked.
"Just coffee right now, Mother, thank you. And I can get it myself." Bethany watched Morgan as he unclasped the large manila envelope and slid out the report his employer had sent.
She poured Morgan a cup of coffee and carried it to him.
"Just put it down there on the table." He quickly scanned the pages of the report.
Bethany set his coffee on the table, then returned to the buffet and prepared herself a cup. Coming back to the table, she smiled at Hawk when she pulled out a chair and placed her coffee next to Morgan's.
"Hello, I'm Bethany Wyndham. I'm afraid Morgan didn't take time for introductions." She held out her hand.
Hawk clasped her hand firmly in his and brought it to his lips. She gasped in surprise at the Continental gesture. Gazing into his shiny, dark eyes, she suddenly realized that this man was most definitely not what he seemed to be.
"Gabriel Hawk. At your service, Ms. Wyndham." His voice was deep, dark and sensual.
Morgan slammed the report down on the dining table. "Have you read this?" he asked Hawk.
"I looked it over at the office before I left this morning," Hawk said. "Interesting bit of information on Tony Hayes."
"Tony?" Eileen and Bethany spoke simultaneously.
"Interesting all right," Morgan said. "But not damning. It explains why Farraday made him his heir apparent at WHNB, but it doesn't give Hayes a motive for murder."
"That depends on whether there was more to their relationship," Hawk said. "Maybe their happy reunion was all for show."
"How about cluing us in on what y'all are talking about?" Bethany glowered at Morgan. "Mother and I would like to know what this interesting information is."
Morgan glanced at Eileen, who sat rigidly in the Georgian-style armchair at the head of the table. "Did your husband ever tell you that he was Tony Hayes's father?"
Eileen's face paled. She clutched the white linen napkin lying in her lap. "No, he—he never told me."
"Tony is Jimmy's son?" Bethany asked.
"It seems Farraday got his teenage sweetheart pregnant and then deserted her before the child was born." Morgan tapped his index finger on the report. "She later married, and her husband adopted Tony and raised him as his son. But right before Tony's mother died a few years ago, she told him the truth about his real father."
"And Tony came to Birmingham to find Jimmy." Bethany shook her head sadly. "He showed up out of nowhere four years ago, and within two weeks of staring work at WHNB, Jimmy brought him on Wake Up Birmingham as his co-host. I wonder if Jimmy knew that Tony was his son and that's the reason he helped make him a local celebrity and decided to hand over the show to Tony once he retired."
"There's only one way to find out," Morgan said. "I think we need to pay Tony a visit this morning and ask him a few questions."
"How does Tony being one of Jimmy's bastard children give him a motive for murdering Jimmy?" Eileen asked.
"That fact alone doesn't give him a reason," Morgan told her. "But I'll lay odds that we don't know the whole story, and that when we do, Tony Hayes may have reason to wish he'd never come to Birmingham."
* * *
Chapter 14
« ^ »
Riding his powerful Harley-Davidson, Hawk followed them out of Mountain Brook. Bethany watched his reflection in the mirror on the passenger side of the car. The wind whipped through his long, black ponytail that hung past his shoulder blades.
"If you don't stop looking at Hawk, I'm going to get jealous," Morgan said teasingly.
"He's a fascinating man. I don't think I've ever met anyone like him."
"Yeah, he's one of a kind, all right."
"But he's not you." Bethany ran the back of her hand across Morgan's cheek. "There's never been anyone else for me, but you." And I'm afraid there never will be.
"Damn, woman, you pick a fine time to talk dirty to a man. Right in the middle of freeway traffic."
Bethany giggled, surprised, yet relieved that despite everything, she could still find humor in her life. Thanks to Morgan. Dear God, how could she bear for things to change once she told him the truth about Anne Marie? Could she survive his hatred? And he was sure to hate her when he found out that she'd kept him and his child apart for all these years.
Glancing in the side-view mirror again, she saw Hawk veer off to the right, exiting the highway on his way to the medical center.
"How long will Hawk stay at the hospital?" she asked.
"A while," Morgan said. "I want him there if Prescott comes out of the coma anytime today."
"And what if Linc doesn't come out of the coma, or what if he dies?"
"Then we may never know for sure if there's a connection between the attack on him and Farraday's murder or our near-death experience last night."
Bethany shifted in the leather bucket seat of Morgan's Ferrari. He had insisted on picking up his car at her house, where it had been parked in the garage since the day he moved in with her. "It's as if things have gone from bad to worse in the past forty-eight hours."
"And they're going to get even worse before they get better. We've narrowed down the suspects, which means that we're closing in on the real killer." Morgan kept his vision focused on the highway ahead as he guided the sleek, black Ferrari through noontime Birmingham traffic. "Unless Eileen and James have figured out a way to be in two places at once, then neither of them co
uld have been driving the red Porsche that tried to run us off the mountain last night. So that leaves only three known suspects."
"Are you sure that the person who stole James's car is the same person who killed Jimmy?"
"Reasonably sure. Unless one of Farraday's fans stole the car, and that's not likely. Whoever borrowed the Porsche knew two things that only one of our three remaining suspects would've known."
"What two things?"
Morgan glanced at Bethany. Her long, sable hair fluttered about her face as the speeding wind from the open windows cooled the car's interior. "First, whoever ran us off the road was following us. He or she knew we were at your house and was waiting for us."
"What's the other thing?"
"Seth, Tony and Vivian would have known that after James accidentally locked his keys in his car for the third time, Jimmy had him keep a key hidden in a metal container under the Porsche."
"How did you know—"
"James told me."
"Yes, of course." Absorbing the information Morgan had given her, Bethany sat quietly.
"If as Hal Varner and I suspect, Linc Prescott knows who borrowed James's car, then the killer is probably running scared. If Prescott regains consciousness, it'll all be over for him … or her."
"You don't think they'll try again to kill Linc, do you? I mean, there's no way anyone can get past the guard outside the ICU, is there?"
"Hawk's presence will be double security against any unauthorized person getting anywhere near Prescott," Morgan said. "He'll detect anyone acting in a suspicions manner."
"So Hawk is going to protect Prescott, and you're going to protect me." Bethany breathed deeply, willing her unsteady nerves not to unravel. "Oh, God, Morgan, I'm scared."
"So am I, honey. So am I." He exited the freeway and headed west toward the television studio. "Having sense enough to be scared can keep you alive. Knowing that there's danger can prepare you, can make you careful. I'm going to be at your side, twenty-four hours a day until Farraday's real killer is caught."
"But why, at this point, when there's a good chance he is going to be caught, would Jimmy's killer try to harm me? What reason would he have now?"
A MAN LIKE MORGAN KANE Page 22