Dangerous Deception

by Beverly Barton

  Dom grinned. “Okay, so your mistakes are whoppers. But that doesn’t mean you’re less worthy of happiness than anyone else. The way I look at it, maybe it means you deserve a little more.”

  Tears misted her eyes. “I don’t deserve—”

  Dom placed his index finger over her lips to silence her. “No more talk like that. Not now. Not ever.”

  Teardrops glistened on her thick, dark eyelashes. “I’m no good for you. I’ll just mess up your life and—”

  Dom grabbed her and kissed her. It tore him up inside to see her like this, to hear her self-condemnation, to know how desperately she needed to be cherished and how afraid she was to trust herself and him.

  The moment he took her mouth, she responded, all resistance erased as if it had never existed. They were a combustible combination, explosive when bonded together. He wanted her, wanted to bury himself deep inside her, to possess her body and soul. But he wanted more for both of them. He wanted to show her that she was worthy of all good things in life. He wanted to protect her from hurt, to wrap his arms around her and keep her safe.

  Minutes later, they broke apart, both of them breathless and unbearably aroused. He felt her hunger as strongly as he did his own, as if they were a part of each other.

  Without either of them speaking, they gazed into each other’s eyes and reached out, ripping at each other’s clothes in a frenzy of need. When his shirt hit the floor, atop her sweater, they paused and took deep breaths. If he didn’t slow things down, he’d be inside her and finished within three minutes flat. He wouldn’t take her this way, to appease his own desire. She deserved better and he intended to prove that to her.

  “Dom?” His name was a pleading whisper on her lips.

  “We’ve got hours,” he told her. “There’s no need to rush.”

  “But I want you.”

  He grinned. “And you’re going to want me even more when I get through loving you.”

  After kissing the tip of her nose, he rose from the bed, walked across the room and put several CDs in the five-disk player. Classical piano music filled the room, the first recording Grieg’s Notturno. Dom went into the bathroom, turned on the lights, then closed the door almost all the way, leaving only a narrow crack of light. When he returned to the bed where Lausanne sat waiting and watching, he flipped off the bedside lamp, casting the bedroom into semidarkness.

  He reached out, clasped his hands around her waist and pulled her out of the bed and onto her feet. She gasped when he kissed her neck. He removed his hands from her waist, then kept his hands to either side of his body, forcing himself not to touch her. He kissed a path down her neck, across each collar bone and to the other side of her neck. She shivered. His sex hardened.

  With the utmost gentleness, he turned her so that he faced her back, then lifted her long, wild hair with one hand as he brought his lips down on the base of her neck.

  She whimpered when he kissed her there. Loving the reaction, Dom licked a moist trail from her neck to the top edge of her bra, then skipped over the bra and continued down the hollow of her back to the waistband of her jeans.

  Her skin was like warm satin.

  He reached out and undid the hook on her bra, then very slowly eased the straps down her arms. She stood there, tense with anticipation, while he removed her bra. And then he caressed her shoulders.

  Moaning, she swayed toward him until her naked back encountered his bare chest. He slipped his arms around her as she leaned against him; then cupping his hands, he covered her breasts. A perfect fit.

  He lowered his head and whispered in her ear. “I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

  “Huh?” Her voice quivered.

  “I said I’m the luckiest man in the world…because I’m your lover.” He rubbed his thumbs across her peaked nipples.

  “Oh…”

  “You’re beautiful and smart and perfect for me in every way,” he told her. “Allowing me the privilege of making love to you is a gift you’re giving me, one I’ll always cherish.”

  He lowered his hands to unzip her jeans. While he shimmied her jeans down her hips and over her legs, she helped him, and even removed her panties herself. With her back still to him, he inserted his right hand between her thighs. While his thumb brushed over her mound, his fingers found her core and strummed across the tip in a slow, tantalizing rhythm.

  As he nipped at her neck and shoulders, sweet little love bites, he used one hand to alternate between her breasts. The fingers of his other hand worked inside her feminine lips to excite and pleasure her. Within a couple of minutes, he felt her body tighten and knew she was on the verge. He murmured how much he wanted her, using graphic words, as he increased the speed of his strokes.

  Lausanne cried out when she climaxed, moisture gushing to coat his fingers. While she shivered and shook, he stripped out of his slacks and briefs.

  Damn it, he didn’t have a condom.

  The barely rational part of his brain remembered that there was a box in the bathroom. The Dundee jet was equipped with all the comforts of home, including contraception, just in case a client might need it. Why hadn’t he thought of that sooner and gotten the condoms when he’d turned on the bathroom lights?

  When he lifted her and placed her on the bed, she held open her arms. He lowered his head and kissed her belly. “I need to protect you.”

  She sighed dreamily and waited while he made a mad dash to the bathroom. When he returned, fully prepared to make love to her, he found her on her knees in the center of the bed.

  God in heaven, she was beautiful. Like a curvaceous little porcelain doll, every curve, every feature sheer perfection. The triangle of fluff between her thighs was as brilliantly golden red as the long, thick mass of strawberry blonde curls cascading over her shoulders. Her breasts were firm and high, her waist long and slender, her hips rounded and her butt a tight inverted heart.

  “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

  “Then you haven’t taken a good look at yourself,” she told him. “Because you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

  He chuckled softly as he approached the bed. The moment his knees hit the edge of the mattress, she threw herself at him and flung her arms around his neck. They toppled into the bed, their legs and arms tangled together as they kissed and touched and rolled around on top of the covers. Managing to straddle him, she pinned him to the bed.

  “You’re in charge, honey.” Dom spread his arms out on either side of his chest. “I’m all yours.”

  She rose up over him, circled his penis with her tight fist and brought him up between her thighs until his tip touched her feminine folds. Then she took him inside her, sliding over him, taking him fully. Once buried to the hilt within her, he longed to thrust upward, but waited for her to make the next move. If she made him wait much longer, he’d die. He was so close to losing it that he wasn’t sure he could hold off until she came again. But he sure as hell was going to try.

  Leaning over him, her breasts like tempting melons, she gazed down at him and smiled. Dom lifted his head and suckled one breast and then the other. Groaning with pleasure, she rubbed against him, putting pressure exactly where she needed it. Unable to restrain himself, Dom clutched her hips and pulled out of her, then thrust up and deep. She tossed her head back and keened while their bodies moved together, the pace growing more frantic by the minute.

  Dom knew he was going to climax any second now and there was no way to slow the process. He wished he could make it last longer. Maybe next time.

  “It’s good, honey,” he said. “So good.”

  She tightened around him like a squeezing fist and within seconds she came. Jerking. Shivering. “Uh! Uh! Uh!” She huffed and moaned, unraveling completely.

  When Dom climaxed, his ears rang and he felt as if the top of his head was going to explode. Every nerve in his body experienced the orgasm.

  She melted into him, her body spreading over his like butter on
a hot biscuit. He stroked her buttocks. She nuzzled his neck.

  “I don’t know about you, honey,” Dom said. “But that was the best damn sex I’ve ever had, so I guess what they say is true about sex being better when you have deep feelings for the other person.”

  She sighed contentedly and kissed his chest. “We are good together, aren’t we? I mean really good.”

  He caressed her hip. “We’re better than good. We’re perfect.”

  “Perfect,” she whispered, then closed her eyes and sighed dreamily.

  A few minutes later, Dom realized she was asleep. He eased her off of him and onto the bed, then maneuvered the sheet and blanket down and back up to cover her. After getting out of bed, he retrieved his cell phone from his pants and headed to the bathroom. He laid the phone on the back of the commode, then removed his condom, tossed it into the trash and washed himself. After he’d cleaned up and relieved himself, he closed the commode lid, sat down and picked up his phone. He brought up Sawyer McNamara’s private number.

  His boss answered on the fourth ring. “Shea, this had better be important. I’m in the middle of a lovely evening with a charming lady.”

  “I want Dundee’s to find someone for me,” Dom said.

  “This can’t wait?”

  “No. She’s already waited long enough.”

  “Who are you talking about?” Sawyer asked.

  “Lausanne Raney gave a baby girl up for adoption over ten years ago. I want Dundee’s to find that child. I want to know who adopted her, where they live, what the child’s name is and if she’s with a good, loving family.”

  “Are you footing the bill for this?”

  “Yeah, send all the bills to me. And see what you can do to expedite the search. I have a woman who can’t go on with the rest of her life until she knows that her daughter is safe and happy.”

  “You’ve got a woman who can’t go on with her life until she’s no longer under suspicion for double homicide,” Sawyer said. “And you should know that when the Dundee jet sets down in Chattanooga, Lieutenant Desmond will be there to meet you.”

  “Damn! He knows Lausanne left the country.”

  “Yes, he knows. And he’s none too happy about it.”

  “She’s innocent,” Dom said. “She didn’t kill anybody.”

  “Even so, she did leave Chattanooga after the police told her not to. Hell, she left the country.”

  “She was with me every minute from the time she arrived in Buenos Aires. Maybe I can make Desmond understand that she wasn’t fleeing the country. After all, she’s coming back of her own free will.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  THE DUNDEE JET LANDED in Chattanooga early the following morning. As Sawyer had warned Dom, Lieutenant Bain Desmond was there to meet them, a uniformed female officer with him.

  “Lausanne Raney,” Lieutenant Desmond said, “you’re under arrest.”

  “Everything will be all right,” Dom told Lausanne. “Trust me.”

  “I do trust you, but—”

  He took her hands in his and squeezed reassuringly. “Just go with the policewoman and cooperate. Go through the process of being booked, but you won’t spend one minute behind bars, I promise.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You’re going to have to go with the policewoman—” He glanced at the tall, athletic black woman waiting patiently for Lausanne. “I don’t have time to explain everything now.” He hugged her, then whispered in her ear. “You’re safe. I’m taking care of you.”

  Closing her eyes momentarily, she clung to Dom, not understanding what was going on. But knowing she could trust him, she released him and turned to the policewoman. “I’m ready to go now.”

  The young black officer, whose name badge identified her as B. Fuqua, read Lausanne her rights, then handcuffed her and helped her into the back seat of the patrol car. When the door closed, she felt a sudden sense of panic, as if she’d been shut off from the world, away from Dom and the security he represented.

  Willing her jangling nerves under control, Lausanne sat quietly in the back seat as the patrol car sped along the highway. She was being charged with disregarding a direct order from the Chattanooga police. According to Lt. Desmond, she had fled the country. Well, she supposed things could be worse—he could be charging her with murder.

  She recited the same sentence over and over inside her mind, believing it with her whole heart. Dom will take care of me.

  No one had taken care of her since her mother died. She’d been forced to fend for herself, to fight her battles alone, to trust no one. But every human being needs somebody in their life that they could count on to be there for them, to go into battle at their side, someone with whom they could celebrate the triumphs and be comforted by in times of tragedy.

  Was she a fool to believe that Dom was that person for her?

  “Are you all right, Ms. Raney?” Officer Fuqua asked.

  Lausanne nodded. “Yes, I’m okay.” As okay as a person under arrest, handcuffed and in the back of a police cruiser on her way to jail could be.

  Leaning her head back and closing her eyes, Lausanne said a silent prayer. Please, God, help me get out of this mess I’ve gotten myself into. I know I’ve made promises before and you know I’ve tried to keep those promises, but somehow I just keep screwing up.

  And if you’re listening, how about doing a couple of other things for me. It sure would be nice if my faith in Dom Shea hasn’t been misplaced. You know how difficult it is for me to trust anybody. But I do trust Dom. And I love him. Heaven help me, I love him something awful.

  And I guess I really don’t need to ask this since it’s a prayer that never leaves my heart, but…Keep on watching over my baby girl. Make sure she’s with people who love her and are taking good care of her.

  DOM WAITED in the interrogation room, along with Bain Desmond and Mike Swain. He just hoped that when they explained the situation to Lausanne, she wouldn’t take a swing at him. If she did, he’d understand. After all, they were playing a game she knew nothing about, not yet. And although he’d been the one who had called Desmond from the Dundee jet before they arrived in Chattanooga, it had been Desmond who’d come up with the plot to use Lausanne to trap a killer. Dom hadn’t agreed to using his woman as bait, but knew Lausanne well enough to realize that she would insist on making her own decisions. If she was willing to go along with Desmond’s plan, then Dom intended to be involved every step of the way. No way in hell was he going to let anything happen to her. Not now. Not ever.

  When Lausanne marched into the room, her head held high, her shoulders back and a defiant look in her beautiful green eyes, Dom felt like laughing out loud. No meek little lamb being led to the slaughter. Not his girl. Damn, he was proud of her. She glanced at him. He gave her a thumbs-up. The corners of her mouth lifted ever so slightly; then she glared at the two detectives.

  “Please, come in and take a seat, Ms. Raney.” Lt. Desmond pulled out a chair for her.

  Lausanne sat, folded her hands in her lap and darted her gaze around the room.

  Dom walked over behind her chair and placed his hands on her shoulders. At first, she tensed, then when he gave her a gentle squeeze, she relaxed.

  He lowered his head and whispered in her ear. “I’m right here, honey, and I’m not going anywhere. I’m with you all the way, whatever you decide to do.”

  Before she had a chance to question his comments, Lt. Desmond sat down across from her on the opposite side of the table. “I apologize for having you arrested, handcuffed and—”

  “Hold on just one minute.” She pivoted halfway around in her chair and looked up at Dom. “Whatever’s going on here, you’re in on it, right?”

  “Lausanne…honey—”

  “I’ve been arrested before, you know,” she said. “And I know that the way I’ve been treated tonight isn’t the norm. Everybody is too concerned with how I feel and if I’m all right. So, how about cutting to the chase and just tell me wh
at’s going on.”

  With his gaze locked to hers, Dom replied, “While you were asleep on the plane coming back from Argentina, I spoke to my boss, Sawyer McNamara. He told me Lieutenant Desmond was meeting us at the airport to arrest you for fleeing the country.”

  “I didn’t flee the country.” Lausanne paused for a couple of seconds, then said, “Well, I guess that, technically, I did flee the country. But I had every intention of coming back.” She faced Desmond. “I did come back to Chattanooga of my own accord.”

  “Yes, ma’am, you did,” Desmond agreed.

  Dom gave her shoulders another squeeze. “After I got off the phone with Sawyer, I called Lieutenant Desmond.”

  “You what?” Lausanne whirled around and came halfway up out of her chair.

  Dom eased her back down, pressing her into place with his hands on her shoulders. “I told him everything that happened in Buenos Aires, everything about Megan Reynolds, including the letter she had started writing to you and about her hiring an attorney.”

  “Mr. Shea convinced me that you had nothing to do with Bobby Jack Cash’s and Audrey Perkins’s murders, that you were set up, Ms. Raney,” Desmond said.

  “He did?” She looked wide-eyed at Dom, then turned around to face Desmond. “Then why am I here? Why was I arrested?”

  “Because we want the real killer to feel safe, to think he or she got away with two murders,” Desmond told her. “Although we can’t arrest you for the murders, we can imply that we’re on the verge of doing just that.”

  “You’ve lost me completely,” Lausanne said. “I’m not following your line of reasoning here.”

  “Ruling you out as a suspect, along with the now deceased Ms. Reynolds, leaves us with three people with reason to want Audrey Perkins dead and one person we know for sure who wanted Bobby Jack out of the way. And all three are wealthy enough to afford a hired assassin to kill Ms. Reynolds. And to kill you.” Desmond waited to see if Lausanne would question or comment on what he’d said. She didn’t. “Grayson Perkins had motive to kill both his wife and her lover. It’s also possible that Patrice Bedell wanted to see both victims dead. And Cara Bedell hated her sister.”