by Peggy Jaeger
That was debatable because from the moment he flattened himself behind me, wound one hand around my waist so that I could follow his body movements and wrapped his other hand around my forearm, I hadn’t been able to concentrate on anything he was telling me.
The feel of his hard body plastered against mine, the way his touch sent thousands of tiny pleasure tingles down my spine, and the warmth of his breath as it drifted over my neck with each teaching point he gave made it impossible for me to concentrate on anything he was saying. Every nerve in my body fired; every hair follicle on my skin stood at attention. The sensation of my hardened nipples scraping against the silk of my bra was almost my undoing. I had to take a quick, hard, breath in and shake my head a bit to rid myself of the picture of Cade pulling me to the floor of the bowling alley and stripping me bare.
And there was an image I couldn’t un-see no matter how hard I tried.
When he guided my throwing arm backward, my body pressed in even closer to his, my butt lined up with his crotch, as if we were both pieces of a jigsaw puzzle that fit together.
As he then pushed my arm forward and told me how to release the ball, the front of his body ground into the back of mine as we moved. His mouth was even with my ear and when he spoke, low and deep right next to it, I found myself tilting my head in the opposite direction, an unspoken plea for him to put his mouth on my skin.
He didn’t.
I released the ball down the alley at his command only to watch it glide straight into the gutter.
As it did every single time thereafter.
“I can’t believe you had no score after two games.” He shook his head, his mouth lifting on one side. “I’ve never bowled with someone with absolutely no score.”
“Now you have.” I shrugged and grinned.
In all honesty I wasn’t embarrassed by my lousy performance. It had been fun for me just seeing how much Cade enjoyed himself.
And of course I’d enjoyed the private lesson.
“The next time we go we’re not keeping score,” he said, reaching down into the minibar and pulling out two bottled waters. He handed me one. “It’ll be a purely learning experience.”
I uncapped it, sipped, and stifled the smile threatening to bloom across my face at his use of the words next time.
“What’s the smile for?”
Shaking me head, I added an eye roll.
“You see everything. I thought I did a good job of keeping it to myself.”
As he had so many times before, he stretched a hand across the seat and threaded his fingers into mine. “I’m good at reading people. It’s a benefit in my business, believe me. Now, what were you thinking about?”
“If you must know—”
“I must.”
Another eye roll. “I was thinking it was nice that you’d implied there was going to be a next time even though I have zero bowling talent.”
“I didn’t imply it, I stated it as a fact. Your lack of bowling talent aside, I think you had a good time.”
“I did.”
“So did I. And in case you hadn’t noticed by now,” he shifted closer to me on the seat after placing his bottle in the cup holder. The sound of his trousers gliding over the soft-as-butter leather sent a shiver of delight down my spine. “I like spending time with you and I want to spend more. A lot more.”
Our gazes locked and stayed. He reached up my cheek then dragged his finger down to the curve of my jaw, which he then palmed. I burrowed into it.
Who moved first isn’t important. Before I could blink I was sitting in his lap again, this time straddling it, while his arms wound around my waist. Our mouths met; fused; devoured.
Kissing Cade Enright, I’d found, was by far one of the best experiences I’d had since waking up.
Maybe even before I went to sleep.
He kissed the corner of my mouth then moved down to nuzzle my ear, his hot breath sending tingles down my spine. When he sucked the fleshly lobe into his mouth I arched into him as a shower of shear delight gushed over me. A thick groan pushed from him as my ass pressed down on the pulsing length beneath me when I moved.
I knew just how he felt.
His hand moved up the outside of my thigh to find its way to the juncture of my thighs. With a subtle knee shift I was able to give him full access to the part of me throbbing with desire.
It was my turn to moan as his fingers dragged across the crotch of my pants.
Then did it again.
“I can feel how wet you are through your clothes,” he whispered before skimming his lips down my neck. “I want you so much, Aurora. Tell me you want me, too.”
Before I could answer him, his mouth joined mine again.
I did want him, there was no doubt of that. The man stirred me into a sexual frenzy every time we were together. The thought he would see my scars in the light of day terrified me, and if I’m being totally honest, I was afraid to see his repulsion.
“Come home with me,” he whispered against my cheek. “Please.”
“Cade, I—”
“I know what you’re going to say. It’s too fast, we hardly know one another.” He pulled back and cupped my face in both his hands. “Technically, that’s true, but I feel like I’ve known you forever. Something just… clicks when I’m with you.”
The man simply gutted me.
I wrapped my fingers around his wrists. “I do …want…to be with you, Cade. But there are some…things, about me. Things you don’t know. And you need to. I need to tell you before we take this any further because I’m not sure you’re going to want to continue like this once you know.”
Still holding my face, he gaze bore into me.
“Please don’t tell me you married or engaged. My heart couldn’t take it.”
A small laugh slipped out from me. Shaking my head I said, “Not married. Not engaged. Never have been.”
“Are you wanted in seven countries on fraud charges?”
“Nope.”
“Not on the run from the law for murder or mayhem?”
This time I laughed outright. “Not on the run. For anything,” I added.
“Then I can’t think of one good thing that you could tell me that would make me not want you as much as I do right at this moment.”
My smile died. “I’m not sure about that.”
Forehead trenched, eyes narrowed and head tilted, he regarded me for a few moments. A quick eye flick out the window and he said, “We’re around the corner from my apartment. Will you…will you come up with me? I’ll listen to whatever you want to say. We can have a drink, settle down on the couch. You can tell me what you need to tell me. Okay?”
I wasn’t sure it was going to be, but I put on my big girl panties and said, “Okay.”
Chapter Twelve
After a morning filled with a grueling physical therapy workout courtesy of Sam, then a scheduled six-month checkup with my neurologist, I had Murphy drive me back to Det. Ramon’s apartment.
“I know I’ve asked this before, but are you sure about this, Miss Aurora?” He helped me from the car. “I don’t feel right not telling your mother the truth when she asks me where I’ve taken you.”
A tiny stab of guilt pierced me. Murphy was such a loyal soul, asking him to fib for me wasn’t right, I knew that.
“I’m going to tell her, Murphy, when I have something tangible. Detective Ramon is helping me with a few things. Once I’ve got everything figured out, I promise I’ll tell mom. Until then, please keep this between you and me.”
He didn’t look happy about it, but he nodded. “You want me to walk you up?”
“No. I’m good. I’ll text you when I’m ready to leave.”
“I’ll be parked here.”
“You’re prompt,” Ramon said from his doorway.
“When all is said and done I’m my mother’s daughter to the bitter end. Being on time is ground into my DNA and tardiness is a major sin.”
He held the door open for me
and then closed it once I was in his apartment.
The first time we’d met when I’d so unceremoniously arrived on his doorstep, he’d been dressed for comfort in jeans and an old Columbia t-shirt. Today he was garbed more as I imagine he’d dressed when he’d been on the job. A starched, white Oxford shirt covered his torso, a pressed pair of brown trousers on his bottom half. His feed where shod in brown loafers polished to a brilliant shine.
He led me into the dining room. The cherry wood table for six was covered in a half dozen banker’s boxes with the tops opened and numerous, stuffed files and notebooks next to them.
“All this is from my investigation?”
“Why are you so surprised?” He indicated a chair for me to sit in and once I was settled, he took the seat opposite me. “Your case was high profile from the get go. A society darling and Page 6 princess is drugged at a big birthday bash at an exclusive nightclub.”
I winced at the description, even though it was the truth.
“A lot of people were looking for answers to what happened and who drugged you. Remember, your father was golfingbuddies with the mayor and the police commissioner. The pressure to discover the perp was immense from all quarters.”
“I had no idea it was such a big deal.”
“You never Googled what happened to you? There were hundreds, if not thousands of articles, blog posts, even underground conspiracy sites who posted about it for months.”
“No. The only time I searched was the other day when I was trying to find out your name and how I could reach you.”
His mouth dropped open and his eyes widened as he regarded me. I couldn’t blame him for being shocked. In the age of instant information anyone else would have done an intensive Internet review. I’d opted not to.
“You never asked anyone to fill you in?”
I heaved out a sigh. “In the beginning I was just so consumed with getting back to some semblance of normal that it didn’t matter what happened. I concentrated on my health. On getting stronger. Once I was, I asked my mother for details. She got upset, and has every other time I’ve asked her about it, so I stopped asking. Maeve is loyal to my mom so she’s kept mum about it too.”
I watched his eyes when I said her name. For the briefest of moments they softened, as if he were remembering her. In the next moment his face blanked again and I got the notion he must have been a heck of an investigator back in the day.
“You never asked your friends to tell you about that night?”
My hesitation in answering drew another piercing and concentrated look from him.
“Aurora?”
Dropping my gaze to hands, I tried to hide my embarrassment but know I did a poor job of it.
“I haven’t been in touch with any of them since I woke up.” The truth was none of them had kept in touch with me. “They all grew up, got older, made lives of their own while I was out of it. Ten years may not seem like a long time in the big scheme of things, but it’s a lifetime to some people.”
I sat back in the chair and shook my head as a fleeting memory of the meeting with Phil flashed before me.
Ramon broke through my thoughts asking, “Why are you looking into all this now? What happened to make you come to me for answers at this time in your recovery?”
“In all honesty I didn’t know about you until last week.”
I’d surprised him again. It was almost comical the way his head bobbed once, as if he’d been hit, when he’d heard the words.
“And I only found out because of a conversation I was having with Maeve about romance novels, of all things.”
“Come again?” His head tilted to one side and his brows pulled in tight over his light eyes.
Flipping a hand carelessly in the air, I said, “It doesn’t matter. Once I found about you I decided you’d probably be the best person to answer my questions.”
He stared at me for a full five seconds without saying a word.
Then, he asked, “Does your mother know you’re here?”
“No. I figured I’d…spare her.”
“Strange way to put it.”
“But accurate. If she knew she’d get all anxious and more worried about me than she usually is, so it made sense to keep my visit with you quiet. Believe me, she’s better off not knowing.”
“I’m not sure I agree with you, but…” he threw up his hands. “Okay, where do you want to start?”
For the next hour he took me through everything he knew once the initial 911 call went out from the club.
“By the time I got to the hospital you’d been resuscitated twice in the ambulance when you’d gone out on them, been intubated and were placed on a ventilator. The ER docs didn’t know what had happened. They were ruling out a bunch of medical conditions but they were pretty convinced you’d taken something. After the initial tox screen came back they knew they were correct and started pumping you full of stuff to rid your system of the drugs. They were too late, though. I think one of them told me your body had some kind of an allergic reaction to whatever you’d ingested in addition to the normal effects of the drugs.”
“Idiopathic response,” I said, repeating the diagnosis I’d been given by my medical team. “The drugs, combined with the champagne and the weird reaction my body had to them, caused my system to shut down and put me in the coma.”
“Yeah, that sounds right.”
“I’m curious about something.”
He nodded.
“Why did you assume I’d been drugged, instead of thinking I’d taken the drugs of my own volition? Like you said, I was characterized as a spoiled party girl by the press. It would have made sense to assume I’d done this to myself and had miscalculated the amount or the effect it would have on me. An accidental overdose.”
“It was never an option that you’d self-induced. Not from the moment we arrived on scene. Every single person we interviewed swore from Heaven to Hell that you’d never use and never had.”
“And that’s the God’s truth. But still, I would imagine in your line of work a healthy skepticism goes a long way.”
He leaned forward in the chair and rested his hands on the small amount of unoccupied table in front of him. “That’s true. I was doubtful, I’ll admit. Your club hopping reputation preceded you, care of all the press coverage you got back then.”
My cheeks flushed and I bit down on the corner of my lip.
“But after we’d searched your house, your room and all your effects, added in with all the protesting everyone did about you never touching illegals, I believed it.”
“You searched…my things?”
“Standard procedure, Aurora. Your parents gave permission, even insisted on it to prove you didn’t have any drugs in your possession. The docs even admitted there were no signs of consistent drug use in your body. You were a healthy, physically fit young woman. When the tox screen came back and we saw what you were given, we figured it was true and you weren’t a user.”
“Explain that.”
“You were given ketamine and rohypnol. You know that, right?”
I nodded.
“Rohypnol isn’t that hard to find if you go looking. Back then, it wasn’t either. But ketamine is another story. It wasn’t as easy to get and even though it was a favorite of the club kid group who called it Vitamin K, it still wasn’t easily procured. It’s a medical anesthetic used in surgery and in veterinarian offices. The only link I found to anyone surrounding you who could have acquired it was one of the club’s bartenders. He’d been arrested on a minor drug charge, but I couldn’t find anything linking him to ketamine. And he had no connection to you on any level.”
This was all news to me.
Something tugged at the back of my memory, something about drugs or someone doing them, but I couldn’t cut through the fog.
“What do you remember about the day of the party? About before you got to the club?” Ramon asked, lifting a file thick with papers and opening it.
“Nothi
ng. The entire day is gone. The last solid memory I have is running in the Park. Maeve told me that was the day before my party.”
He nodded and glanced down at the file.
“What is that?”
“Copies of the interviews we did with Phillipa Doubletree. The rest of these”—he laid a hand down on the stack of files in front of him—“are all interviews with your other friends and everyone else who was in the club that night.”
“Why are you holding Phil’s?”
“I spoke with Miss Doubletree on numerous occasions, more than any other of your friends. She gave us a full description, a time line of sorts, from the time she arrived at your house the day of the party until you started seizing in the club.”
“Phil was at the house that day? I don’t remember. It makes sense she was, though, because she was my best friend back then and we saw each other every day.”
“Was your best friend? Past tense?”
“I haven’t seen her since I woke up. Well, except for a random, really weird meeting on the street last week.”
I explained about walking home, seeing Phil and then the strange talk we’d had at the café.
“Do you know if she ever came to the hospital to see you?” Ramon asked. “Or afterward?”
“I know for a fact she didn’t. Maeve told me when I asked about her.” I shook my head and glanced at the file in his hand again. “She never liked Phil, that much I remember. She told me in all the time I was in the hospital and then when I was transferred home, Phillipa had never once come to see me, or even called to find out how I was.”
“How do you feel about that?”
“Confused, more than anything. Why she didn’t has been swirling around in my head ever since our impromptu meeting.”
He kept quiet, still holding the file. “Well, if it’s any consolation, she may not have come to visit or speak to your family, but for months after you were hospitalized she called me. At least one a week, wanting to know if I’d found out anything or had any idea who put the drugs in your drink.”
“She did?”
“I made note of the times we spoke in here.” He lifted the file.
