Night Game

by Christine Feehan

  Flame sucked in her breath and quickly turned her face away from him, but not before he saw the hurt in her eyes.

  "Fils de putin!" Gator passed his hand over his face. This was his fault, not hers. He was the experienced one, yet he'd been so out of control, wanting her so badly, he'd acted like a buck in rutting season. How would she know he'd been making love to her when he hadn't been tender and gentle?

  "Flame . . ." he began, at a loss for words. He didn't talk about feelings. He just felt. "I made love to you. That was me making love to you and maybe you deserved a different initiation, but I meant it as loving you. I'm not all that civilized and I can't say what I'm feelin' right all the time, but . . ."

  She turned her head from him and he caught the glitter of tears. "Don't, Raoul. This is me freaking out, not you doing something wrong." She drew the sheet around her, suddenly feeling vulnerable. "I'm afraid of you, of how you make me feel. When I'm afraid, I have a tendency to run. And if I can't run, then I go on the offensive."

  "You're not embarrassed with me, are you? Because the things we did are natural. We didn't do anything wrong."

  She shook her head. "No, I'm not embarrassed." And God help her she wanted to do them all again with him. "I'm just--confused. I've always had a plan and I've always kept on the move. I don't know how to stop. I don't know if I can stop, or even if it's safe to stop, even for a little while."

  "It's okay to be confused, cher. I can live with confused. I just can't take you leaving me. Maybe we're both a little afraid, but I say we give it a try."

  He was standing in front of her, totally naked and comfortable with it, such a temptation to her. It was impossible to be embarrassed around him because he made her feel beautiful and comfortable in her own skin, with her own sexuality. He made no excuses for the things he wanted from her body, but more than that, with the way he looked at her, the look in his eyes hungry and possessive, she couldn't help but respond.

  He held out his hand. "We need to shower. Don' be worrying about what we can't change, cher. You don' throw something like this away."

  "Like this?" she echoed.

  He sighed. "Why do women always make you say things?" He took her hand and tugged her to her feet. "If I'm makin' love to you, sugah, it's because I'm in love with you. Come on, you're still a bit sticky from all that whipped cream."

  Flame didn't let herself think about the future as the hot water poured over her. Raoul insisted on shampooing her hair, using her broken arm for an excuse, and then he soaped her body, his hands lingering in intimate places. His lovemaking was far gentler without the wild, frantic pace, but no less intense. She wanted to cry with the way he made her feel.

  "It's going to be all right," he whispered, holding her close to him.

  She knew a sound must have escaped without her realizing it. Life wasn't as easy and laid-back elsewhere as it was in the bayou, but she wasn't going to think about it anymore. She'd stay with Raoul as long as she could.

  The clothes his grandmother had chosen for her were very tasteful and in stark contrast to the strange leather and mesh attire. She wiggled into a powder-blue tank top and frowned at Raoul. "Are you certain you had nothing at all to do with that bag of sex toys? I just can't imagine your grandmother in an adult store. I mean, you are a perv, and it had to come from somewhere, but it just doesn't seem like something she'd do."

  Gator drew his jeans over his hips and buttoned them up, as casual dressing in front of her as he was with his nudity. "Now that you say that, I've never had an inkling she even knew there were such things as adults stores, but don' be selling her short. She wants us together and she's very shrewd."

  Flame ducked her head. "She wants you to have children, Raoul. She doesn't want you to be with me. I'm going to tell her the truth. She deserves to know."

  Raoul paused, hands on the last button of his jeans. "Don' be getting all hot and bothered, cher, but she already knows the truth. I told her a little bit about you when you were in the hospital and I made certain she knew you couldn't have children."

  "Then why . . ." She pointed to the candles and the remnants of mesh and leather. "Why would she want us to have any kind of a relationship let alone a permanent one?"

  "Because you make me happy." He said it simply, his dark eyes meeting hers.

  Flame shook her head. "You're such a goof, Raoul. I have no idea why I make you happy. You're not a very logical person, are you?"

  He grinned at her as he scooped up the fur-lined handcuffs. "We've still got these, cher. You'll make me very happy when you're my little sex slave." He leered at her and dangled the cuffs.

  She started laughing again, shaking her head just like he knew she would. "You're going to have to help me with the zipper on these jeans." They were just a little tighter than she normally wore them.

  Raoul dropped the cuffs on the bed and crossed the room to stand in front of her, obediently doing the enclosure up for her. She suddenly sucked in her breath. "Too tight?" He stepped back to look at her. "They don' look too tight."

  "Sex slave." She repeated the words aloud. "There were tie-downs in that car. And a recorder. It was on when James tore my shirt open." She looked up at him, knowledge blossoming. "That's what they're doing. They drug the girl, have sex with her, and record it, probably really humiliate her and they keep her locked up while they get her addicted to drugs. They're using her as their own personal sex slave, Raoul. She's got to be somewhere in the bayou."

  "You think they'd keep her alive all this time?"

  "Why not? The bayou's a big place. They use her for a while, make a few recordings, keep her hooked on drugs and then . . ." She trailed off.

  "Then kill her?"

  "Maybe. Maybe not. Remember the mini-discs I found in Saunders's safe?" She rubbed her temples and sank down onto the edge of the bed. "It's all coming back to me now. I saw those same discs in the car. What if they turn the girls into porn stars or prostitutes or sell them as sex slaves? Keep them, terrorize them, hook them on drugs, degrade and use them, threaten them with the movies, eventually the woman might do whatever they say."

  "That's a big leap, Flame."

  "The car was a trap for a woman. It can't be just date rape, Raoul. The driver's in on it. The camera installation alone would require big bucks. It's well hidden. I heard the hum or I wouldn't have ever noticed it. These stupid painkillers. If I hadn't been so foggy from the operation, I would have remembered every detail."

  "If more girls were missing we'd know about them."

  "Why would you? My guess is, they don't usually grab women close to home. The first girl was probably taken because her voice triggered the need and whoever is the ringleader couldn't resist."

  "And then Joy did the same thing." Gator shoved his hand through his hair in agitation. "You think the old man knows?"

  "How could he not? His son. His driver."

  "We could be wrong about this, Flame. We have to go slow and make sure. Parsons has a lot of political contacts. If we make a mistake, we could be in trouble. James Parsons could just be a common garden-variety sleazebag. I don't see him as the type of man to be involved in a crime of this magnitude."

  "I agree. But he wants to feel important. And he'd love to put one over on his father, if I'm any judge of people. He's a spoiled kid who wants his own way. The driver is the brains. And he drives Emanuel Parsons everywhere, so he probably knows every private thing in their lives. If he could get James on camera, drugging and raping a woman, what do you think Daddy would do to protect his son?"

  Gator shook his head. "This is a big jump, Flame."

  "You weren't in that car. I know that was Joy's earring."

  "And James Parsons would say that she was his girlfriend and they had lots of sex in the backseat of the car. Or he could just say she rode in the car."

  "Well, maybe we should go to your grandmother's house and play these discs. I have a firm belief that slimebags hang out together. There's a reason Emanuel Parsons is visiting
Saunders."

  "He's investigating him for laundering money."

  "That's the official version. What's the real one? Why go to his house late at night? There was no party, no social event going on. I've thought a lot about that night. I was distracted knowing you were there, but Parsons didn't go for dinner. Saunders was in his ivory tower working late. No one else came. It wasn't a let's-get-together-for-drinks atmosphere and Saunders found out before Parsons left that the money was missing. I heard the guards talking about the robbery, so whatever business he had with Saunders that night involved whatever was in the safe."

  They looked at each other. "The discs," he said.

  She nodded. "It has to be. He couldn't have opened the safe for papers because there weren't any papers, I would have taken them. And why would Saunders be paying Parsons unless he was paying him off, which I'll admit is a possibility."

  Gator shook his head. "Unlikely. Saunders is a killer, plain and simple. When something, or someone is in his way, the first thing he thinks about is removal."

  Flame went very still, one hand going defensively to her throat. "Like Burrell," she whispered. "I gave Burrell the money to pay off his loan. He called Saunders and was going to meet him to give him the check."

  There was a small silence. Flame pressed her fingers against her eyes. "Saunders probably didn't show at the meeting and his men were waiting in the swamp to kill Burrell. I thought they were there for me. How could I have missed that? Oh, God, Raoul, I got him killed by giving him the money for his last payment. He would have been better off losing the money. He'd have his life and his houseboat and he'd be sitting on the river smoking his pipe and laughing with his friends. Instead he's Saunders's lesson to others not to cross him."

  "If Saunders had him killed, cher, you had nothing to do with that decision."

  "I recognized one of Saunders's men in the swamp before the others came. I'd seen him at the back of Saunders's property. He brings in the women for Saunders."

  Raoul retrieved the discs from the duffel bag as she swept up the photographs and stuffed them back in the envelope.

  "Let's go."

  Flame's breath caught in her throat as she observed the stark, grim lines etched in his face. There were times looking at him, like now, that he was intimidating. She followed him out to the airboat, placing her feet carefully on the undulating boards of the pier. She reached out to rub his arm in a soothing gesture.

  "Remember when you told me about losing control? You didn't tell me everything, did you?"

  "Why would you suddenly think that?"

  "Because the pier nearly shook apart just now. What else happened, Raoul?"

  He glanced at her as he helped her on board. "You don't want to know." As she brushed up against him he felt the knife concealed along her rib cage. Instant heat spread through him. He caught her arm on the pretense of steadying her and inhaled her scent.

  "Of course I want to know. It's what's made you who you are."

  "Well I'm not telling you. I can't afford to lose you. Maybe when you're eighty, so if you want to find out, you'll have to stick with me that long."

  "I made a few mistakes."

  "Drop it, Flame. Ask me anything else, but leave that alone."

  She leaned into him, her hand cupping the side of his face, her eyes staring into his. "You're a good man, Raoul. Whatever happened, you're a good man. I've seen evil and I know the difference."

  He kissed her because he had to. It was a need. An obsession. It was a claim. His mouth descended on hers, his tongue demanding entrance and the moment she opened for him, he swept inside, taking control. He loved the taste of her and he loved the feel of her soft, silky skin. Her mouth was hot and addicting, so that he didn't, couldn't stop. His arm swept around her waist and dragged her closer. Her arm bumped his chest and she flinched. Gator pulled back with a sigh of regret.

  "I love your mouth."

  She smiled at him. "I would never have noticed. I take it you're driving."

  "I have two hands."

  The airboat skimmed over the water for several minutes, birds rising into the air, shrieking in annoyance. He deliberately maneuvered the boat close to the shore so she could see the alligators sliding into the water and the turtles sunning themselves. This was his home, had been a good portion of his life. "When I was a young boy, we lived in the cabin. All of us. Grand-mere and my three brothers. We fished mostly and Nonny did quiltin' and the like to get by. We were happy, cher. We didn't know we were poor. And at school, if any of the kids teased us about our raggedy clothes, we'd just beat 'em up. It was a good time."

  "How'd you manage to get so much property and that beautiful house your grandmother lives in?"

  "My brothers and I worked. I joined the service and I still send most of my pay home. My brothers send a good portion of their paychecks as well. She raised us and loved us when she could have said it was too much for her. We were wild, Flame. She's a good woman."

  "I know that, Raoul. It was a wonderful thing that you and your brothers did."

  He shook his head. "Naw, it was wonderful what she did for us." He took the boat out into the open water so he could go much faster.

  She looked around her at the beauty of the bayou and laughed with sheer joy. "I love it here."

  Gator expertly swung the boat into a narrow slough, one the boat barely fit through. "Me too. I'm not much for the city, cher."

  Her eyebrow shot up. "You think you're shocking me with that admission? I had you pegged as a country boy, through and through." She frowned, wishing he'd slow down as they rounded a corner and nearly hit the stump of an old cypress tree rising out of the shallow water. He zigzagged, scooting around the obstacle and shot back into the open channel.

  "You having fun? I like this boat. You already tore up my motorcycle."

  "You tore up that bike," he reminded.

  "But it was your fault. You shouldn't have given me the keys."

  He laughed as they made another turn onto marshland, the airboat slowing to go over the watery land.

  "What are you doing, you crazy man?"

  His hand brushed hers until their fingers tangled together. "We've got a tail, Flame. He's havin' a hell of a time tryin' to keep up with us, but he's following for sure."

  "Who is it? I could jump off here and wait for him," she offered, all business.

  "With your one arm?"

  "Don't you worry about me, Raoul. I can take care of myself, one arm or not. You keep that in mind the next time you want to try smacking my bare bottom."

  "Damn, cher." He grinned at her, almost making her heart stop. "You're giving me a hard-on just thinking about your pretty little ass. Now's no time to be gettin' me all hot and bothered."

  "Will you be serious? This is the perfect place for me to ambush him." She pulled her hand away from his and curled her fingers around the hilt of her knife.

  His grin widened. "You're so damned sexy, sugah. I love it when you talk dirty."

  "Raoul! Swing back around and let him get close enough so we can see who we're dealing with."

  "I know who it is. I recognize the boat and the way he drives it. That's Vicq Comeaux. He's about as mean as they come, but he isn't part of any of this." Gator took the airboat back to the open water and poured on the gas so that they left the second boat far behind.

  "He tried to kill you."

  He nodded. "So did you. It seems to be a hazard I have to deal with quite often."

  She frowned at him. "Maybe you should brush up on your people skills." She glanced back at the boat. "Really, Raoul, let me have a go at him. He could creep up behind you someday and you'd never see it coming."

  His arm circled her neck, drawing her close enough that he could find her mouth again, kissing her hard and deep. "That's what I love most. You're such a bloodthirsty little wench."

  "Do you ever take anything seriously?" she demanded.

  He pulled back to look into her eyes. The grin disappeared and something
dark and cold and lethal crept into his eyes. "I take what James Parsons did to you seriously. And I take what Whitney did to you very seriously. Don' you worry, cher, when it counts, I'm deadly serious."

  CHAPTER 16

  Nonny hugged Flame, dragged her into the house, and clucked over her broken arm. "Did Gator take care of you, cher?" she asked, with a quick smile for her grandson.

  Flame blushed, uncertain what Raoul's grandmother was asking. Surely she wasn't inquiring as to whether or not he'd taken care of her sexual needs? It didn't help that Raoul pressed against her back, his breath warm on the nape of her neck, both hands cupping her bottom right through her tight jeans. She smiled at Nonny and slapped at Gator's hands behind her back.

  "He was--unbelievable." She found herself stammering.

  "Unbelievable?" Wyatt echoed, his eyebrow shooting up. "He was unbelievable?"

  Flame's color deepened and she cast him a glare. "Astonishing." That was worse. What was the matter with her? It wasn't her fault, Raoul was distracting her with his roaming hands. He had a fixation with her butt and she was going to have to do something mean right there in his grandmother's home if he didn't stop. Did one get aroused in front of other people? She never had, but then that was before she met the Cajun king of perverts.

  Gator put his lips against her ear. "Mind-blowing?" He helped her out. "Or maybe that was you."

  Flame cleared her throat. "I couldn't believe how attentive he was last night, Ms. Fontenot."

  Wyatt burst out laughing. He nudged his brother. "You were attentive. Just how attentive were you?"

  "Remember, cher, you were going to call me Nonny."

  "Yes, of course." Her temperature was rising right along with her color. It was so hot she wanted to fan herself. She kicked backward with her heel, driving it into Gator's calf with a satisfying thud. "Thank you so much for the clothes, Nonny. They fit beautifully, even the shoes."

  Gator's breath exploded out of his lungs and his hands came down on her shoulders hard. At least she knew where they were and he couldn't distract her.

  "My friend told me about a nice boutique for young women and they had everything. It made it easy to shop," Nonny said. "I just made a cup of my special tea. Would you like some?"