Tangled Threat ; Suspicious

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Tangled Threat ; Suspicious Page 29

by Heather Graham


  Her skirt and delicate lace bra fell to the floor, and the sleek length of her back was available to be savored by the touch of his fingers, while his lips found the hollows at her collarbone, then moved steadily down, finding her breasts. He felt the quickening of her breath, and that, too, was an aphrodisiac. She was smooth and soft, erotic, hot, vibrant. Her lips and teeth on his shoulders, bathing, biting, aroused him. Her hands, deft and seductive, were at the waistband of his trousers. It was then he realized that, remote as his house might be, the glass panes opened to the glory of the Everglades—and the eyes of anyone who might wander by. He caught her up into his arms, heedless of the clothing they left scattered behind, and strode down the hallway to his bedroom. As he did so, her eyes met his, dazed and mercurial, fascinating, poignant pools. And then her fingers swept back a dark lock of his hair, touching his face as he had so tenderly touched hers.

  Night was coming to the Everglades. Coming in hues of crimson and purple, red and gold. The light shone dimly into the room, illuminating them as they fell onto the bed and came together again in a fury of naked flesh. Every little nuance of her seemed to touch and awaken and arouse him. Whispers and soft moans escaped her lips, a siren’s song, as he reveled in the discovery of her, the tautness of her abdomen, the length of her legs, the firm fullness of her breasts. And in return...her hands were on him, touching without restraint, fingers no more than a whisper, and then a tease that brought the blood thundering through his veins again, his own breath a drumbeat, the tension in him unbearable.

  And yet the anguish was sweet. As if the moment would not come again and had to be cherished, savored. He felt he died a thousand little deaths, not willing to allow it to end, hands upon her everywhere, lips tasting, teasing, giving homage, demanding response. He held himself above her, found her mouth, his tongue thrusting within, gentle at first, then almost angry. Finally he allowed his body to slide slowly against hers as he eased himself lower, again finding the fullness of her breasts, the rose-tipped peaks of her nipples, and below, his tongue stroking a rib, delving into her naval, the lean, low skin of her midriff, then...a kneecap, outer thigh, inner thigh, and the crux of her sex.

  He heard the anxious, heady sound of her whispers and moans, protest, encouragement. She writhed against him and into him, and he felt the pulse of her body, until at last he rose above her again and thrust into her, his eyes locked with hers, his soul needing to encompass the length and breadth and being of her with the same searing need that ruled his body. The world rocked in the colors of the sunset, soaring, shooting reds, golds that burned into heart and mind. He moved, and she moved with him, a fit as sweet as it was erotic. Fever seized him, and the rhythm of their union became staccato and desperate. The sounds of their breathing rose to storm pitch, hearts attuned in physical cacophony. Searing lava seemed to rip through his veins, and he fought it, until he felt her surge against him, and then his own climax seized him with violence and majesty.

  He moved to her side, and felt the thundering in his chest decrease to a steady beat, the pulse slow, the air move. The colors of sunset faded. Mauve darkness settled over them as she curled against him. He touched her hair in wonder, but his voice rang harsh again when he spoke. “You can’t go back there.”

  The wrong words. She pushed away from him.

  “I have to.”

  “No.”

  “Jesse...”

  “Shh.”

  “I have to go back. And I have to go back soon.”

  “Not now.”

  “They’ll know I’m with you.”

  “It’s early.”

  “But...”

  “Shh.”

  “Jesse, you can work with me or against me,” she whispered.

  He didn’t reply. He was fascinated by the color of her hair against his sheets in the dying light. She went rigid beside him, so he smoothed her hair, then her brow. Then he kissed her forehead, her lips.

  And then it began all over again, and this time, when the final thunder came, the black of night had descended fully.

  They didn’t speak, just held each other for the longest time, her head on his chest, their legs entwined. At last she pushed away from him, rose and found the shower.

  He found her there. And in the spray of heat and steam, he found himself exploring anew, touching, tasting, licking tiny water drops from her flesh....

  Feeling them licked from his own skin, feeling himself touched, taken, stroked.

  Soap upon flesh, flesh upon flesh, a night in which he found he could not be sated, in which he soared, in which he was afraid. And he didn’t want it to end, because, when it did...

  Eventually they managed an actual shower. The lights on, they moved in silence, finding all the scattered pieces of their clothing. And then, a new cup of coffee in his hand, Jesse told her firmly, “You can’t go back.”

  She was rigid and determined; he could see that immediately. She regally smoothed back a piece of wet hair and said, “I told you, you can work with me and keep me safe, if that’s what you feel you have to do. But I am going back.”

  “I can stop you,” he told her.

  She lifted her chin. “You’d really arrest me?” she demanded. “For what?”

  His teeth grated.

  “I can tell Harry that you’re acting suspiciously. That I think you’re dangerous.” He lifted his hands in frustration. “Lorena, your being there is pure insanity. You’ve told me that someone killed your father. An innocent couple was shot down in cold blood. A man was eaten by a gator. If someone at Harry’s is involved, that someone is ruthless.”

  She set her hands on her hips, indignant, eyes narrowing dangerously. “What? I’m a woman, and that means I have to be incompetent?”

  “I didn’t say that. But I’m not letting you go back there.”

  “Then you’ll never find the killers you’re after!” she told him.

  He stared back at her, feeling anger rise in him again.

  “I need to go back. And I need to go back now. I’m already going to have to think of something to say when everyone wants to know why you detained me.”

  “I told both you and Hugh that I was going to talk to you about the incident at the farm,” he said flatly. He shook his head in disgust. “You’re playing a dangerous game. You haven’t just entered a pit of vipers, you’re asking them to bite.”

  “What?”

  “Oh, come on. You’re flirting with the pack of them.”

  “I went for a ride in an airboat,” she said. “So what?” But there was no conviction in her tone.

  He stared at her, torn, impotent, and furious because he knew that, on the one hand, she was right.

  He had no proof of anything. So...what? Wait until something else terrible happened and hope he was there to save her? Find some reason for a search warrant, a legal way to get into Harry’s, and rip the place apart?

  “No one was suspicious of me except you,” she reminded him. “Honestly, Jesse, I told you I’m a crack shot. I carry a gun, and I’m licensed.”

  “Great. And do you walk around armed all day?”

  She let out a sigh. “Do you really think anyone is going to hurt me in front of dozens of witnesses?”

  “Two days,” he said.

  “What?” she asked him, frowning.

  “Two more days. That’s what I’ll give you. And you have to swear to me that you’ll go nowhere alone with any of those men. When it’s night, you lock yourself in. When it’s morning, you get where you need to be—fast.”

  “I need to get back into the lab,” she said.

  “You can do that when I’m there.”

  She cocked her head to the side, wary. “And we’ll manage that how?”

  “Easy. I’m around enough.”

  She hesitated. “Jesse—”

  “That’s the deal. Take
it or leave it.” He shook his head angrily. “You toe the line, and I mean it. It’s going to be busy as hell right now, too, because I have to arrange hunting parties to find your scientifically mutated alligators—assuming they even exist. Every one of them has to be caught and killed. God knows how many people could die if some super race of huge, aggressive gators starts breeding out there.”

  “Two days, then,” she said softly. “But, Jesse...that’s my point, don’t you see? I have to find the truth. I have to find out what they know and just how they’ve altered the alligators, not to mention just how many of them are out there.”

  “I need enough evidence to get a search warrant, nothing more,” he said.

  She nodded, then said softly, “I really have to go back now.”

  “I need a minute to get a few things,” he told her.

  “For what?”

  “For the morning.”

  “You can’t stay out there,” she protested.

  “Yes, I can.”

  “They’ll know! Someone will definitely get suspicious if you start staying out there.”

  “No one is going to know.”

  “And how can that be?”

  He smiled grimly. “Because you’re going to sneak me into your room at night.”

  Her breath seemed to catch in her throat as she stared at him.

  “Jesse, I’ve told you, I’m a crack shot.”

  “So was my wife,” he informed her softly.

  Then he turned away.

  Chapter Eight

  Harry was beside the canal, looking both anxious and edgy, when they returned in the airboat.

  Lorena cast Jesse a quick frown to warn him that they had clearly made the man suspicious.

  “What are you two doing out this late at night?” he demanded.

  Jesse managed to look a little sheepish as he tied up the airboat and helped Lorena to the embankment. She was surprised that he bothered, and that he could sound so casual as he said, “Just trying to avoid a problem.”

  “Maybe you want to let me in on it?” Harry said.

  “We had a complaint, Harry,” Jesse said. “But don’t worry, it’s all been nipped in the bud.”

  “What do you mean, don’t worry? I thought I owned this place!”

  “Just some kid said he’d been bitten by a hatchling. Turns out, it was the kid’s fault. He was trying to steal it,” Jesse explained.

  “Steal one of my hatchlings?” Harry looked enraged.

  “Yep, and that’s why the parents have dropped the whole thing. I just needed Lorena’s account of the problem. There’s nothing to worry about, Harry. I thought it would be a minor thing, and it was. If there had been anything to worry about, naturally I would have spoken with you immediately.”

  “This could mean a lawsuit,” Harry protested.

  “It might have, but it isn’t going to,” Jesse said.

  Harry was still glowering. “It’s my place. I need to be apprised of everything that happens here.”

  “Harry, chill. The complaint has been dropped. Lorena told me everything I needed to know. There was no reason to upset you.”

  Harry stared hard at Lorena. She tried to decide if he looked worried or not. Mostly he just seemed concerned about his place. And angry with Jesse. “You’re not doing your job right, Jesse Crane,” Harry said angrily. “Cutting corners, kidnapping my nurse.”

  Lorena was instantly aware that Harry had said the wrong thing. Jesse stiffened, and the look in his eyes turned chilling. “Harry, two good people have been shot to death, a tribal member has been killed by an alligator, and you’ve got a security guard in the hospital, hovering between life and death. Drop it,” he said icily.

  Harry backed down, instantly. “I, uh, I just checked on Roger. He’s still in a coma,” he said gruffly. “You found out anything else on the murders?” he asked.

  “No,” Jesse said simply. “Nor can I tell you anything else about Billy Ray. But we’re going out gator-hunting from here tomorrow evening around six. The office will set things up with the guys who run the licensed hunts. I’ll be needing Jack Pine and Hugh. We know we’ve got a man-eater out there, and it’s got to be put down.”

  “Now you’re going to take my handlers?” Harry said incredulously. “Like hell! This is a business.”

  “And you can do business tomorrow. You’ll just be minus a couple of handlers come six o’clock.”

  “Dammit, Jesse—”

  “How many tourists do you think you’re going to have if this rogue gator attacks more people?” Jesse demanded.

  Harry waved a dismissive hand. “Are you going to need my nurse again, too?” he demanded.

  “Hopefully not,” Jesse said calmly, not raising his own voice to meet Harry’s indignant tone.

  “You coming in for dinner?” Harry asked Jesse, clearly changing the subject to avoid an argument.

  Jesse glanced at Lorena. “If there’s still dinner, might as well,” he murmured.

  Harry made an unhappy snorting sound, and they walked together toward the main building. As they went, they could hear the bellowing of the alligators in their ponds.

  Soon they reached the cafeteria. “I’ve eaten,” Harry said curtly. “You two go on.”

  Lorena murmured, “Thank you,” and stepped in ahead of Jesse.

  Sally was seated at one of the tables, with Jack Pine and Hugh.

  Hugh rose when he saw them enter.

  “Well, that took a while,” he said dryly.

  “We got to talking, that’s all,” Jesse said.

  Sally set a hand on his arm. “Jesse, how are you doing?” she asked, real concern in her voice.

  Jesse frowned at her. “I’m worried,” he said flatly.

  Jack Pine waved a hand in the air. “Jesse, there may be one big gator out there, but face it, Billy Ray was a drunk. Do we really want to cause a panic out there when for all we know he passed out, fell in the water and drowned, and then got eaten by that gator?”

  “No panic. Just a hunt,” Jesse said.

  “Let me get you all some food,” Sally said sweetly, flashing a smile at Jesse, then Lorena. “It’s late, they’re closing down, so I’ll just make sure you two get to eat.”

  “Thanks, Sally,” Jesse said, smiling back at her.

  Lorena found herself remembering how Sally had talked about Jesse earlier. Devastated, but not dead! She felt at a loss for a moment, realizing that she knew so little about him. The night had been strange. Intimacy had been sudden and yet...she felt as if it had been something that, unbeknownst to herself, she had actually been awaiting. But she didn’t know anything about whatever might have gone on with him—and Sally?—before she got here. She did know that he’d had a wife, and that she was dead....

  And that she’d been a crack shot.

  “Harry teed off about the hunt?” Hugh asked.

  Jesse shrugged.

  “Harry’s all about the bottom line,” Jack said. “He doesn’t even give a damn about Michael’s research. He just wants to please the tourists, grow the gators, harvest the meat and hides.”

  “Yeah, but if we catch the rogue that killed Billy Ray, he’ll want it on display, don’t you think?” Sally said, returning to the table. One of the waiters was behind her, carrying two plates piled with something Lorena couldn’t identify.

  “Jesse won’t be letting Harry have that old gator, will you, Jess?” Jack said.

  “Why not?” Harry asked.

  “It should go to the village, to the Miccosukee,” Jack said flatly.

  “Let’s catch the thing first,” Jesse said.

  “Hey...you’re not going soft, are you? Thinking it’s just a good ol’ predator doing what comes naturally, and planning to transplant it somewhere deeper in the Glades?” Hugh asked.

  Jesse
shook his head. “No. It’s dangerous. We have to put it down. There’s one thing I’m really hoping, though.”

  “What’s that?” Sally asked.

  “That it is an ‘it.’ That we’re not searching for more than one really dangerous alligator.”

  “There’s one thing I’m wondering,” Jack said.

  “And what’s that?” Lorena asked.

  He stared at her. “Where the hell did a bugger that big and vicious come from?”

  There was silence at the table. Lorena found herself intensely interested in her meal.

  The conversation never really recovered after that.

  Jack left the table first, a few minutes later. Then Hugh. Sally didn’t seem to want to leave, though.

  But finally Jesse stood. “Ladies, I’ve still got some work to do, so I’ll bid you good night.”

  Sally watched him go, obviously appreciating the view.

  Lorena cleared her throat. Sally glanced at her, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Well, I see that you’re coming to enjoy our local...wildlife, shall I say?”

  Lorena ignored the other woman’s teasing tone. “What happened to his wife?” she asked.

  Sally didn’t seem to mind dispensing information. “She was a cop, too. Some coked-up prostitute she was trying to help walked up to the back of her car one night and—on the order of her pimp—put a bullet into the back of her head.”

  Lorena let out a long breath. There was really nothing to say except “Oh.”

  “She was something, I’ll tell you. An heiress determined to make the world better through law enforcement.” Sally assessed Lorena carefully. “Don’t go getting any ideas. He’ll never marry again.”

 

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