Deadly Reckoning

by Elle James

  “But I want to touch you.”

  “You will.” He sluiced water over her breasts, rinsing the suds away, then applied more soap and smoothed his hands over her hips and down between her thighs.

  Kayla pressed her breasts against his chest, her calf rising up the side of his. “I want you inside me.”

  “Soon.” Gabe’s heart raced, his control stretched thin. He didn’t think he could hold out much longer, wanting to be inside her more than he wanted to breathe. Yet, he continued his assault on Kayla, his fingers circling to weave through the curly mound over her sex. He parted her folds, slipping a finger inside to flick the nubbin of her desire.

  She gasped, her hands digging into his arms. “Oh, God.”

  He strummed it again and she molded her body against his. “I’m on fire. Please…”

  “Please what?” He dipped into her juices, swirled and returned to that special place that had her climbing up his body with each touch.

  “Please, come inside me.” She clamped her palms on either side of his face, her eyes wide, intense and so dark they rivaled an evergreen forest.

  Barely able to stand himself, he lifted her, wrapping her legs around his waist, and stepped out onto a towel.

  “We need to dry off,” he said.

  “No, I can’t wait.”

  “I won’t risk you falling again.”

  “Fine, but hurry.” Her legs dropped to the floor and she grabbed for a towel and began squeezing the water from her hair.

  Each time she winced, Gabe felt a stab of guilt.

  “We shouldn’t be doing this so soon after your fall.”

  “Don’t you back out on me now.” She advanced on him, wrapped the towel around him and pulled him against her, his member pressing into her belly.

  “Okay, I surrender.” He lifted her in his arms and carried her into the bedroom, laying her out on the bed.

  “Do you have…”

  “I’ll be right back.” He ran to the bathroom, fished in the back pocket of his jeans to unearth his wallet. God, he hoped he had a condom.

  Buried beneath his credentials, credit and health insurance cards was a lone foil packet. As he returned to the bedroom, he ripped it open with his teeth and slid the rubber down over his engorged shaft.

  Kayla smiled up at him, her damp hair curling darkly against the white sheets. She raised her arms, beckoning him closer.

  He slid between her legs, the tip of his erection nudging against her entrance. “Just say the word and I’ll stop.”

  Her legs wrapped around his waist and she squeezed.

  He slid in, thrusting deep, her channel invitingly slick with her juices. Even with the condom, it felt so wonderful, so right. Like coming home.

  Gently at first, he moved in and out of her, slowly increasing the pace until they rocked the bed, the headboard bumping into the wall.

  Kayla’s heels planted in the sheets and she pushed up to meet him thrust for thrust, her hands on his hips, guiding him in and out.

  Tension built and peaked, shooting Gabe over the edge, sparklers rocketing to fireworks as he climaxed. He pushed into her one last time and held steady, deep inside her warm, moist center.

  Kayla’s back arched from the bed, her face tense, eyes tightly shut. Then she cried out his name and fell back to the bed, a thin sheen of perspiration covering her body, making her pale skin glow.

  When the waves of sensation subsided, Gabe lay down beside Kayla, rolling her over to face him, maintaining their intimate connection.

  Her green eyes opened, glazed with passion and drooping with exhaustion. A smile curled her kiss-swollen lips. “Wow.” Then she closed her eyes, her body going limp in his arms.

  Gabe’s heart skipped several beats. What had he done? Making love to a woman with a head injury was just asking for trouble.

  “Kayla?”

  She didn’t answer.

  He shook her gently. “Kayla? Talk to me.”

  “Mmm.” She pressed her face into his chest, snuggling against him. “Again?” Her eyes fluttered open then closed. “I’m too tired.”

  A chuckle rose in his chest and he bent to press a kiss to her forehead. “Sleep, sweetheart. Everything’s going to be all right.”

  Her breathing grew slower and deeper.

  For a long time, Gabe lay with her in his arms, unwilling to break their connection. Afraid it was just a fluke and would never happen again. And he wanted it to happen again and again.

  God, what was he doing? Just a few hours ago, he’d told himself that he couldn’t get involved. Not with anyone, and especially not with Kayla. But he hadn’t been able to help himself. He’d craved her too strongly to resist, so he’d let himself believe her when she said that she needed him to take it all away, to make it better for a little while. But had he actually made things worse? The danger hadn’t lessened. The threat against her was still very real. Would he be able to keep his objectivity and protect her with a clear mind now that he knew how it felt to make love to her?

  As he lay there wide awake, the events of the day crowded in on him. The murdered woman, the necklace, the writing on the mirror, Kayla lying on the floor unconscious, the ViCAP database.

  His thoughts swirled, hammering against his consciousness. In the end, he couldn’t lie still, he had to get up. He needed to call Molly and let her know what had happened and that he wouldn’t be home that night.

  Slipping into his jeans, he padded barefoot out to the living room. All the blinds were closed except the large picture windows overlooking Cape Churn.

  Drawn to the view, he moved closer to the glass, disappointed by the starless night. Fog pressed against the coastline, obliterating the ocean view.

  Something else blocked the view through the window. With the darkness outside making the glass mirror Gabe’s reflection, he almost missed it. Then he saw it, red paint in bold, block letters, splashed across the window.

  W-H-O-R-E-!

  Chapter 8

  Kayla woke the next morning with a dull headache pounding against her skull. She stretched, winced at her sore muscles and bruised body. As each pain made itself known, the memories of the day before flooded back. Everything from the day before. Including who she’d fallen asleep next to at the day’s end.

  She sat up straight, the sheet falling down around her waist. Heat rose up her neck and into her cheeks. Her naked body had beard burn in several places, and the musky scent of sex filled the room.

  Her gaze shot to the bathroom. The door hung open, the light off.

  “Gabe?”

  The sound of an electric drill reached her. What was the man up to?

  Hauling the sheet around her, she scooted off the bed and stood. As soon as her feet hit the floor, her stomach roiled—one of the wonders of being pregnant.

  Clamping a hand to her mouth, she dashed into the bathroom and sank to her knees in front of the toilet, hurling bile into the water.

  “Kayla?” Gabe rushed in, worry filling his voice. He squatted beside her and held her shoulders, his hands warm and reassuring.

  God, she didn’t want him to see her this way. Not yet. Not when he didn’t know.

  “Are you all right?”

  “No. I’m vomiting.” Her stomach rose into her throat and she dry heaved, the sound disgusting to her own ears. How lovely it must be to Gabe’s.

  “That’s one of the symptoms Emma said to watch out for.” He popped to his feet. “I’m calling the doctor.”

  “No!” Kayla held up a hand, but couldn’t talk as another round of dry heaving hit her full-on.

  Gabe ignored her plea and ran into the other room.

  As the heaving continued, Kayla remained glued to the porcelain, un
able to stop the man from making a needless call.

  When her stomach finally settled, her back hurt and the muscles along her rib cage screamed. She flushed the commode and pushed to her feet, wrapped her bathrobe around her naked body and stared into the freshly scrubbed mirror. She gave a silent thanks to Gabe for having cleaned the threatening words from the glass.

  Then she got a look at her face.

  “Ugh.” Her hair had dried, matted and tangled beyond repair, like a throwback to the troglodytes. Her pale face resembled death warmed over and her breath reeked of bile.

  She tackled her mouth first, scrubbing her teeth and tongue with a healthy dollop of paste, careful not to venture too far back into her throat, lest she start the vomiting all over again. Somewhat refreshed, she set to work combing the tangles from her hair.

  For some reason, though, her efforts seemed to make things worse, and she was about to throw her comb down in disgust when a big, warm hand closed around hers.

  “Let me.” Gabe looked over the top of her head, his sky-blue gaze capturing hers, intense and unyielding, then his gaze drifted lower to her midsection.

  Her pulse skidded to a stop, held for a moment, then returned at a gallop. “You know.” Her words weren’t a question.

  He set the brush on the counter and turned her in his arms. “Why didn’t you say something?”

  “It’s not every day you blurt out ‘Hey, I’m pregnant’ to complete strangers.” Her flippant words ended on a wobble.

  Gabe shook his head. “Where’s the father? Are you married? Will he be showing up any day?” With each question he seemed to get more agitated. He flung his hand in the air. “God, I’m an idiot! Seems I can’t pick a woman who’s willing to clue me in on the things that matter.”

  “I’m not married,” Kayla leaned forward. “I was artificially inseminated with the sperm of a good friend.”

  Her confession didn’t make Gabe appear any happier. “How good a friend is he?”

  More tears spilled down her cheeks, her heart squeezing hard in her chest, the pain still too recent. “The best.”

  “Then why didn’t you marry him? Why are you leading me on?”

  “I didn’t marry Tony because I didn’t love him that way, any more than he loved me that way.” A sob escaped. “But he was my best friend and he knew how badly I wanted a child and a family of my own. We were going to be our own little family, but then he died in an auto accident two days after the AI procedure. He was the only true friend I had.”

  Gabe stared at her, his jaw tight, fists clenched. “You should have told me before.”

  She nodded. “I wasn’t ready to tell anyone. It was my grief and my secret.”

  “A pretty important one.” His mouth settled into a thin line. “If I had known, I wouldn’t have…”

  “Wouldn’t have made love to me?” She pulled free of his arms. “Is making love to a pregnant woman that awful?”

  “No. It’s just…”

  Her hormones flared, blowing his reaction out of proportion. She knew she was being unreasonable, but was unable to stop the anger from rising and gaining control. “What? Are you afraid I’d claim the baby was yours?” Unfounded anger burned up her neck and into her cheeks. “Well, let me tell you, buster. This baby is mine. I want her more than I’ve wanted anything in my life. She’s mine to love and I’m not letting anyone else have her. Do you hear me? She’s mine, so you don’t have to worry that I’ll be knocking on your door anytime soon demanding child support payments.”

  Gabe stared at her long and hard. “That’s not what I meant.”

  Just as quickly as it had risen, the anger subsided, leaving Kayla feeling tired and defeated. “Just go.”

  “Not until you let me have my say.… What I was going to say is that you should have told me. As the man making love to you, I had a right to know.” He shook his head. “I don’t know you that well, but after you were so open and honest about what happened in Seattle—and after what happened between us last night—I believed that I’d earned your trust. That’s why it hurts that you would keep something like this from me. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  She pushed him aside and ran for the kitchen, her stomach knotting.

  “Kayla, we’re not finished with this conversation.” Gabe followed, stalking her like a man on a mission.

  With one hand clamped over her mouth, she rifled through the cabinets. Where had she put the crackers? She needed a damn cracker.

  Gabe found the box of saltines in the cupboard beside the sink and handed it to her. “This what you’re looking for?”

  With a single nod, she yanked a sheath of crackers out of the box and ripped it open, scattering saltines across the counter and floor. She stuffed two in her mouth, closed her eyes and willed her insides to calm.

  Another cracker to absorb the acid and she could breathe without fear of losing it. Kayla wiped the crumbs away from her lips and sucked in a deep breath, letting it out slowly, regretting her outburst. “I’m sorry.” She turned away, her gaze on the floor, crackers clutched in her hand. “You’re right, I should have told you I was pregnant before we…”

  Hands descended on her shoulders. “Before we made love.”

  She leaned back, her body molding to his. The ridge beneath his jeans growing, nudging against her bottom.

  A smile quirked her lips. At least he wasn’t completely turned off by her condition. He clearly still wanted her. But did she want him? Physically, yes—there was no denying the way she responded to his touch. But emotionally, was she ready for more than the one night of comfort he had given her already? She couldn’t regret reaching for him last night…but she didn’t know where things were supposed to stand now. Did he regret what they had done? Was that what this argument was really about?

  “Would the night have ended differently had you known?” she asked.

  Kayla could feel his shoulders lift and fall in a shrug. “Maybe.”

  Her empty hand covered one of his on her shoulder. “That’s why I didn’t say anything. I wanted you with me. I wanted you to make love to me.”

  “And I want honesty from the people in my life.” His voice was so cold and distant. Unlike the Gabe she’d gotten to know in the past twenty-four hours. “But really, this just reminds me that we barely know each other. That we jumped into things way too fast. If I’m going to be able to do my job—if I’m going to be able to keep you safe—then I need to get some distance back.”

  Kayla hugged her arms around her middle, fighting back the tears burning in her eyes.

  Gabe stepped away from her. “I have to run home, change and get to work.” He nodded toward the door. “I installed a temporary lock until we can have the dead bolt and doorjamb fixed. It’s not the best solution, but it’s better than nothing.”

  Kayla noted the skinny push-bolt lock he’d installed while she’d slept. “Thank you.”

  He pointed to a can of wasp spray on the counter. “I found that under the sink. Since you don’t have a gun and probably wouldn’t use it if you did, this will work almost as well.”

  “How will wasp spray help?” She stared at the can, imagining the nasty scent of bug repellent, and her stomach lurched.

  “Keep it within easy reach. If someone breaks in, spray him in the face. It has a ten-to twenty-foot spraying distance. Make it count and aim for the eyes.” The thought of spraying someone in the eyes was horrifying—but she’d do whatever she had to in order to protect herself and her baby.

  Gabe’s brows furrowed as he stood halfway between Kayla and the door. “Will you be all right alone?”

  He’d withdrawn from her. Kayla could feel it as surely as a draft of icy air from the air conditioner.

  “Yes.” She refused to let his rejection bring her down. Th
e baby needed her to be happy, healthy and focused on the path ahead. She’d be fine without Gabe. She still had her baby. Her hand swept across her belly. We don’t need anyone else. We have each other.

  “I have work to keep me busy and the lesson with Dakota.” Her back to Gabe, she walked toward the big picture windows, for the first time noticing the splashes of red across the glass. “What is this?”

  “He was here again, last night.” Gabe’s voice was flat and tight.

  Kayla’s pulse hammered against her eardrums and roaring blasted in her ears as she read the word. “Whore? That sick bastard called me a whore?” She marched to the window and banged her fist against the glass. “Damn him! Damn him to hell!”

  Gabe crossed the room and gathered Kayla in his arms, turning her away from the harsh red paint and the message splashed across the glass. “It’s just paint. I’ll bring some turpentine out and scrape it off after work this afternoon.”

  “Don’t bother,” she said, her voice harsh. “I have turpentine. I can get it off.”

  “No. It’ll take a lot of the stuff and you don’t need to be sniffing the fumes. It’s not good for the baby.”

  She wanted to argue the point, wanted to take care of herself without his or anyone else’s help. But Gabe was right. She shouldn’t be sniffing fumes of any kind, not with a baby growing inside her. “Okay, I’ll let you do it. But if I wasn’t pregnant, I’d do it myself.”

  He smiled, but it faded into awkwardness as, suddenly aware of their position, he let her go and stepped back. “I believe you. Get some rest, and if you feel any of those symptoms Emma mentioned, call me immediately.”

  Kayla nodded up at him, warmed by his words and the worried frown on his brow. “I’ll call the hospital. You don’t have to babysit me, you know.”

  “Someone does.”

  “I’m a grown woman, I can take care of myself.”

  Although his mouth was still tight, his face etched in stone, he brushed a thumb across her cheek. “Not with a killer on the loose,” he said, his tone soft, compelling.