“And then have you owe Kaskov again?” Eve’s lips tightened. “No way.”
“It won’t be like that this time. I promise you.”
Eve hesitated, then slowly nodded. “Okay. I guess you’ve gone through enough trauma. Do what you like as long as it doesn’t cost you.” She gave her a quick hug. “Now let’s get out of here. I want to pick up Michael at Catherine’s and be home by midnight.”
Cara had known this confrontation was coming. “You go ahead. I’d rather stay at a hotel here in town until Svardak is caught.”
“No deal,” Eve said flatly. “Joe and I both want you out of this area. It’s not safe for you. We’re going back to the lake cottage, and Joe is going to arrange with the precinct to give you protection.”
“Svardak could find me anywhere.” She turned and was heading for the door. “You know Joe won’t be leaving these mountains until he’s sure that Svardak is no longer here. He’s out there looking for him now, isn’t he?”
“Of course, he’s a cop, and Svardak is a mass murderer. Not to mention what he did to you. Joe’s contacting all the county sheriff’s departments for help with the locals. And he’s trying to track down some more of that bastard’s goons to squeeze them for information.”
Cara grimaced. “And you’re trying to tell yourself that he’ll be fine, and you’re not at all nervous.”
“It’s his job,” Eve said. “And it’s my job to accept that sometimes it does scare me. At least, you’re safe now, and that makes Joe safer.”
“Well, it’s not my job,” Cara said quietly. “I’ll check into that Holiday Inn where you said you stayed the first night. I’ll move on when Joe moves on.” She looked over her shoulder and smiled faintly. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to be trekking along after him. That would draw Svardak’s attention to Joe. But I have to be close to him.”
“The hell you do.”
“Yes, the hell I do,” she said quietly. “All the years he took care of me, and now I have a chance to try to take care of him. You know how much I owe him, Eve. How much I owe both of you.”
“You’ve always had that idiocy about owing us,” Eve said shakily. “It’s crazy.”
“It’s right. And you’re not going to talk me out of this. So you go home and take care of Michael and let me keep an eye on Joe. No one is safe from Svardak, and who is more vulnerable than a child? You know Joe would say the same thing.” She opened the door and looked back at her. She made one more attempt to convince her. “Stop worrying, Eve. Look, there’s no current sign of any threat to Joe. Maybe I’m paranoid. There’s a threat to me, but that would exist anywhere until Svardak is caught. Besides, Kaskov will probably have Nikolai watching me. Even Svardak would have trouble getting past Nikolai.” She was closing the door. “Call me when you and Michael get home. Okay?”
She didn’t wait for an answer as the door clicked shut behind her.
She drew a deep breath and started swiftly down the corridor toward the elevators. She didn’t know if she’d pulled it off or not. Eve’s first instinct would be to either yank Cara back to the lake cottage or stay with her here. But Michael’s safety was a powerful magnet and always Eve’s and Joe’s paramount concern.
She would just have to see if she’d made a good enough case to persuade Eve to get in that car and head back to Catherine’s to pick up her son.
HOLIDAY INN 7:40 P.M.
Cara stepped out of the shower, dried off, and slipped on the white terry-cloth robe Eve had stuffed in the duffel she’d given her.
She looked like a drowned rat she thought ruefully as she gazed in the vanity mirror. Bruised, thinner than she remembered, far too fragile, with that sopping-wet hair hanging around her face and down her back. At least she was flushed from the shower. Maybe she wouldn’t appear like such a damn victim once she got rid of that drowned-waif look.
Okay. Stop putting it off. She drew a deep breath and braced herself. Then she took the portable hair dryer from her makeup bag. She was being stupid. It was a tool. Nothing to dread about using it.
She forced herself to raise the hair dryer.
Only a tool.
Her cell phone on the nightstand in the bedroom was ringing.
Cara stiffened. Coincidence. Stupid to be so jumpy. He wasn’t reaching out to her. She shouldn’t panic, only Eve knew she was here. But she lowered the hair dryer and found she was almost running to the nightstand to pick up her phone. “Eve?”
“No,” Jock said curtly. “She’s probably well on her way to pick up Michael. Where you should be.”
“Hello, Jock.” It wasn’t really a surprise. Eve had not wanted to leave her alone. She knew Jock would be one of Eve’s choices to fill the gap. “Eve phoned you? She shouldn’t have bothered you. There’s nothing you can do. I don’t need you.”
“That’s obvious. Or you would have told me when you decided to leave the hospital. I’m only grateful that Eve decided to tell me that you’d opted to disappear into the depths of Coal Town instead of getting the hell out of Dodge.”
“She didn’t have many options. She knows I’m trying to make Kaskov help me, and she could have gone to him, but she doesn’t trust him. She does trust you, Jock.”
“Which is more than you do.”
“I trust you.” She sighed. “You’re just going to be difficult.”
“You’re right about that. Stay where you are. Now it’s my turn to tell you not to slip out the back way. I’m less than five minutes from you.” He cut the connection.
She slowly put away her phone. He was angry, and he would be more than difficult. She automatically started to brace herself for what was to come. It always hurt her when she knew all was not right between them.
Then she shook her head as she realized what she was doing. Not this time, Jock. There was too much pain in her world right now. She desperately wanted to see him, but it had to be her way. Easy to say, she thought ruefully. Not so easy to accomplish when he was already storming the gates and giving orders.
He was knocking on her door in four minutes. She threw open the door. He was just as high-impact as she’d thought he’d be. Dark jeans, black shirt with sleeves rolled up to the elbow, and that magnetism casting out sparks in every direction. She tried to smile. “Hi, stop looking so grim.” She stepped aside to let him come in. “I would have let you know I’d left the hospital … eventually. I just didn’t want to deal with you for a while.” Then her eyes fell on the object he was carrying, and she inhaled sharply. “The Amati?” She grabbed the violin case from him and set it on the bed. “I was afraid to ask about it. I thought he might have taken it with him.” She was unfastening the latches and throwing open the lid. “Or smashed it…” She gently took out the Amati and was stroking the bridge with caressing fingers. “It could have gone either way.”
“I should have told you I had it.” He was leaning against the door, watching her face. “I brought it down on that second trip, but when I saw you in the hospital last night, you blew my mind.” His lips tightened. “And we weren’t talking about music. When I was watching that Skype Svardak had with Kaskov, I wasn’t certain we’d ever be talking about it again. You took a hell of a risk.”
She nodded. “I had to risk everything. I couldn’t hold anything back. I had to show him that no matter what he did, I was strong enough to survive him.” She tucked the violin beneath her chin. It felt so good. She closed her eyes, luxuriating in the textures, the deep wood scent, the knowledge that the music was still out there, still part of her. “You have no idea how strong the evil in him is, Jock.” She opened her eyes and looked at him. “But evil can’t win all the time. I believe you think it might, that your experience with Thomas Reilly made you think that. That’s why you’re so afraid for me.”
“You’re damn right I am,” he said hoarsely. “Look at you. You’re sitting there, huddled in that terry robe, with your hair clinging all around you, bruised and cut and still lecturing me about worrying about you?”
“If you’d given me time to repair a little of the damage, I wouldn’t look like this. I’m fine now, Jock.”
“Damage?” His eyes were blazing in his taut face. “Nothing was supposed to happen to you, but it did. And I couldn’t do anything to stop it, to help you. Do you know what that did to me?”
She did know, and she was melting as she looked him. She could see all the hurt and the helplessness because she knew it would have hurt her terribly in the same circumstances. “You came to help me. I could have died if you hadn’t been there. You shouldn’t have done it, but you came.”
“Do you actually believe I could do anything else? That wasn’t enough,” he said jerkily. “I saw that photo and the Skype, and I realized what that bastard was doing to you. He was twisting and changing you, and I wasn’t there to stop it. And now you’re telling me that you’re fine and only need a little time to repair the ‘damage.’ Don’t lie to me. I saw it, Cara. I could feel it.”
Of course he could. Just as she would be able to feel his pain. And she was hurting him even more by trying to close him out and hide what Svardak had done to her during those days. She had to stop it. “I won’t lie to you. But I can’t talk very much about it because it was mostly inside. I know that will bother you, but I’ll share what I can.” She met his eyes. “This is hard because I don’t want to show you that I’m not as strong as I want to be. But you said that you couldn’t help me while I was with him. That doesn’t mean that you can’t do anything now.” She carefully put the violin back in its case. “The memories … are bad, Jock. Maybe you can make some of them go away. Will you do that for me?”
“I’ll do anything for you.”
“Then will you come here?” Don’t hold it in. Don’t back away from it. She got to her feet as he came across the room. “I didn’t know that it might be the little things that would bother me.” She said unevenly, “It may seem foolish, but they might stay with me. I don’t want them to be hanging around getting in the way. It would be like him being there.” She pushed Jock down in the chair beside the bed and then dropped down on the floor in front of him. She reached up and took the hair dryer from the nightstand where she’d thrown it when she’d answered the phone. She handed it to him. “I don’t want to be a bother, so it’s all right if you say no.”
His eyes were narrowed on her face. “What are you asking, Cara?”
“I told you, it’s … pretty silly.” She settled back down on the floor between his legs with her back to him. “I was having trouble … drying my hair before you came today. Svardak insisted on using Marian Napier’s hair dryer on my hair at the cabin, and he kept talking about her while he was doing it. It made me sick. I … liked her. I felt as if I knew her, Jock. It hurt me. The memory still hurts me.” She looked over her shoulder at him, and whispered, “All the years we’ve been together, all I’ve had to do was come to you, and you’d make everything that was bad good again. Can you make this go away, too?”
He went still. Then his hand reached out and touched her cheek with the most incredible tenderness.
“Aye,” he said thickly. “I’ll make certain you won’t remember him.” His eyes were glittering as he looked down at her. “You’ll only remember what you choose to remember.” He turned the dryer on low so it was like the purr of a cat. “Or what I choose for you to remember. Will that be all right?”
“I think so.” She leaned her head back on his knee. “I know you’d never make me remember anything that would make me unhappy.”
“I’ve been fighting to avoid that for years. You wouldn’t listen.” His fingers were winding themselves in her thick black hair, separating it to reveal her nape. “This is a really beautiful part of your neck. Silky … vulnerable.” The stream of gentle warm air was blowing on the naked skin of her nape. “I’ve always loved your hair, but it’s a shame to cover it.” His fingers were now gently massaging that skin as he pushed the strands of her hair back and forth with the rhythm of the dryer. Revealing her soft skin to the blast, then covering it, then repeating the action. Over and over and over. And always his touch, guiding, stroking. She swallowed and moistened her lips. She was finding that rhythm incredibly erotic. “Jock…”
“A little more heat?” He pressed another button. “Not too much, just enough to make you know it’s there waiting for you.”
Heat surrounded her. He surrounded her. His voice, his words, his scent, his essence. “It makes me feel…” She didn’t know how it made her feel. It was like nothing she’d ever felt before. “Waiting for me?”
The heat was gone. He had turned off the dryer. “Why not?” His fingers were running through her hair now. “You’re quite perfect, you know.” He bent forward, and she could feel his breath on her ear. “You should have anything you want or need. I’ve always thought that, Cara.” She felt his lips brush her earlobe. Then his tongue rimming the edge of her ear … She inhaled sharply and went still.
“Turn around,” he said softly. The hair dryer was on again. “I have to do the front.” But the tips of his fingers were still running up and down the sides of her neck with an exquisite sensual sensitivity that was breathtaking. “I’m finished back here.”
She closed her eyes as sensation after sensation tingled through her from that stroking, teasing touch. “Are you? I’m not sure that I am.” But she wanted to see his face while he was touching her, that face that was like a beautiful concerto … She got up on her knees and turned to face him. And his face was as wonderful as she’d thought it would be. His lips fuller, the shape still clean and defined yet infinitely more sensual, his eyes glittering and intense. “You might know better than I do.”
“But you’ve always been a quick learner.” He took a strand of hair at her temple and blew it gently with the dryer. “Sometimes too quick. It’s been the bane of my existence. Now close your eyes again, you’re distracting me.”
“Why? I don’t want to close my eyes. I want to see you.”
“Close them.” He bent forward and his lips brushed one lid and then the other. “Who’s running this show?”
She reluctantly shut her eyes. “I should still have something to say about it.”
“Wrong. You shouldn’t speak at all.” His hands were on her hair again. “You should only feel.” He was shaking her long hair around her shoulders, blowing, then pulling it back entirely to bare her neck and shoulders. “The hollow of the throat is so very sensitive … I can see your pulse beating…” Then she could feel the seductive warmth of air touch the hollow of her throat. She leaned back with a cry, her neck arching. “And now it’s beating faster,” Jock said. “Is it the heat again? Then let’s give you more…”
The air became warmer, harder, focused, but it was no longer on her throat. It was moving down to the curve of her breasts at the robe closure. Shock. Her nipples were swelling, tautening, pushing against the terry material.
Her pulse leaped crazily. She reached out blindly and grabbed at his knees to steady herself. “What … are you doing?”
“Only what I told you I’d do,” he murmured. “Now keep your eyes closed…” He pushed the robe open. “Beautiful,” he said thickly. “Do you know how beautiful you are?” He was taking the long strands of damp hair from her shoulders to drape them over her breasts and nipples. The faint coolness made her gasp, and her fingers dug into his thighs.
“Shh, it will be gone soon.”
Heat that was almost hot.
Cool wetness that was pure sensual provocation.
His hands moving the strands of hair teasingly over her breasts and nipples, rubbing, waiting, then rubbing again. “Did you know that if you take one single strand from the rest, it has a kind of strength and friction that can be … exciting.” He ran the strand back and forth over her nipple. “What do you think?”
She couldn’t answer. She was biting into her lower lip to keep from screaming. The friction was mind-blowing.
“I believe you agree. Then let’s continue
as we’ve started.”
Softness, sharpness, heat, dampness … friction.
The muscles of her stomach were clenching.
“Jock, I … can’t stand this.”
“Aye, you can. I know you. You can stand anything.” He slowly brushed the strands of hair away from her breasts. She could feel his breath on her nipple as he licked the swollen tip. “But I’m not sure about myself. I’m not as strong as I thought.” Then his mouth was on her breast, sucking, biting, holding.
She made a sound deep in her throat. She couldn’t breathe. She wanted more. She tried to get closer to him.
“No.” He held her still. “Just this.” His teeth bit down. “Let it come, Cara. Let it come, love.”
It went on and on.
His hands. His mouth. His teeth.
She was trying not to cry out. But after all the teasing and intimacies that had gone before, she was helpless, wild. She didn’t know what she was doing. What difference did it make? She didn’t care.
“Jock, I’m … burning up.”
“But you’ll never remember anything but this when you reach for that dryer, will you?” he murmured.”Or any dryer. It’s your will, your pleasure. That’s the only thing that’s important.”
“No, not the only thing.” She threw her head back as shudder after shudder racked her. “I’ll remember you…”
“That’s definitely allowed. Now just a little more…”
More? How could she take any more? Something was happening, and she couldn’t stop it.
“Jock, I don’t know…”
“Shh. Ready? It’s fine.” Then Jock’s hands were cupping her buttocks as he pulled her up onto his lap and into his arms. The scent of him … The rough denim of his jeans against the softness of her hips and belly against his hardness as he held her tightly to him as he moved her back and forth so that she’d feel every sensation.
Fire.
Hunger.
Need.
Convulsion.
Her back arched, and she grabbed his shoulders and held on to him as wave after wave poured through her. Like the heat. Like his mouth. Like the feel of him against her. “Jock!”
Dark Tribute--An Eve Duncan Novel Page 17
