"You're in love with the way I make you feel when we have sex," he told her. "You've never been with a man before and you're mistaking great sex for love."
"Maybe you can separate the two in your mind and heart," she said. "But for me the two things go together. Don't you realize that without my being at least halfway in love with you, I wouldn't have had sex with you?"
What would happen if he told her that half truth right this minute? What would she do if he told her he was her benefactor? If he did that, then he could tell her how much she meant to him, how deeply he cared. He could find a way to kept the other half of the truth from her, couldn't he? Would it be so wrong to take what she was offering? They could go away together. Far away, where no one knew her and no one had ever heard of Aidan Colbert.
But his conscience got in the way, as it always did. Hadn't he caused Caroline enough harm already? "I can't offer you anything beyond what we have now," he said. "I'm sorry. I wish. . ." You don't know how much I wish that I could give you the moon and stars, that I could lay the world at your feet. This is one time, my sweet Caroline, that I cannot give you what you want.
"Then I have no choice. . .I'll take what you can give me." She reached for him, all the love and longing she felt alive in the depths of her blue-violet eyes. Eyes that had haunted him for years and would continue to haunt him until his dying day.
"You're recuperating from surgery," he reminded her. "I don't want to do anything that—"
"You won't hurt me," she said. "You know how to make gentle love. I need you so. Once I give you the key and you feel that I'm no longer in danger, you will leave me and we'll both be alone. Let's not waste what precious time we have left together."
No man alive could refuse such a request. Not from a woman like Caroline. She had no idea how alone he would be once he left her. Although he had been alone most of his life, the loneliness in his past couldn't begin to compare to what lay ahead for him.
Tears gathered in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. He kissed them away, tasting their sweet saltiness with his tongue. "Don't cry. Please, don't cry."
He undid the buttons on her silk pajama top, slowly, prolonging the pleasure for both of them. She lay still, her chest rising and falling with each expectant breath she took. When he released the last button, he spread apart the shimmery, soft garment and bared her breasts.
He touched her. Featherlight. Hesitant. Her nipples puckered. His mouth could not resist. His lips closed over one nipple while his fingers played with the other. She moaned and squirmed. His hands traveled beneath her breasts to the flesh below. Licking. Nipping. Kissing. Careful to avoid the small bandage that covered the stitches in her side, both front and back, and sealed her recent wounds. He hooked his fingers beneath the elastic of her pajama bottoms and eased them down and off, leaving her totally nude.
"You are the most beautiful thing on earth," Wolfe said.
"Please. . .I want to see all of you, too."
He could refuse her nothing. He lifted his hips and removed his boxer shorts, leaving himself totally exposed. His erection thrust forward as if searching for Caroline's body. She was everything to him. Without her— No! He wouldn't think beyond the moment. She was his tonight.
He touched her everywhere, his hands examining and petting. Her face. Her breasts. Her belly. The inside of her thighs. He eased her to her uninjured side and became intimately acquainted with every inch of her back, her hips and buttocks. He lavished attention on her body, arousing her and at the same time arousing himself. Almost beyond endurance. But this loving was for her. His lips joined his fingertips, kissing her mouth and then moving to explore her neck, her ears, her throat. She shivered and his tongue came out to play, traveling over her arms and legs, painting trails between her fingers; then under, over and around her breasts until she lifted her hips and arched her back as her heels dug into the rumpled covers at their feet. Placing his hand in the middle of her belly, he soothed her while he spread her legs apart with his other hand and lowered his mouth to kiss her intimately.
Only a few strokes of his tongue and she was crying out for him. Close, so very close to fulfillment. He ached to be inside her, free from all barriers, but he had risked too much that one time at the cabin. In the last moment of sanity before he could no longer control his actions, he reached out for protection and found the box of condoms he'd picked up at the drug store the other day when he'd picked up Caroline's pain medication, the day she came home from the hospital. The box was still inside the nightstand. He hurried, his hands unsteady, his fingers fumbling. Need rode him hard. The moment the sheath was in place, he braced himself over her, his knees on either side of her legs, and looked down into her eyes as she gazed up at him and held open her welcoming arms.
"I'll be. . .very. . .careful," he said, his words strained.
He lifted her hips, bringing her up to meet him, and took her with one quick, powerful thrust. And then he waited, unmoving, except for his labored breaths. Being inside her was heaven. Her body was home and comfort and incomparable pleasure.
He moved. Slowly. Back and forth. Teasing her with gentle strokes. Tormenting himself. Wolfe made love to Caroline with the utmost tenderness, savoring each moment their bodies were one, knowing that she would be a part of him forever. His sweet Caroline.
Her moist folds tightened around his shaft, squeezing and releasing until he thought he would die. When he sensed that she was on the verge of coming, he increased the tempo and deepened the lunges until she bucked and cried out, her climax hitting her hard. He pumped into her, not letting up until the moment of completion. In those seconds after he convulsed with shattering intensity, their bodies wrung every ounce of satisfaction from the culmination of their mating. It was a moment that Wolfe wanted to last forever.
Completely drained and totally sated, he eased himself up and off her, then settled at her side. Being extra careful, he pulled her close. They shared a kiss that held them bound together beyond the sexual experience.
"I love you, Wolfe." She snuggled against him. "Please, don't ever forget me and what we've shared."
Forget her? Impossible. She was a part of him. His mind, his heart, his very soul. "I won't forget you. I promise."
Long after she fell asleep in his arms, he held her and looked at her and savored each precious second. He stored up memories to last a lifetime. Finally, hours later, he slept.
The quiet tap at the bedroom door woke him the next morning. He slipped out of bed, adjusted the covers around Caroline's naked shoulders and reached for his pants lying in the nearby chair. He zipped up his slacks as he made his way to the door. When he opened the door, he found Jack Parker standing in the hall. He stepped outside and closed the door behind him.
"Sorry to disturb you." Jack glanced toward Caroline's bedroom. "But we just got a call from Sawyer. Seth Horton is dead."
"Goddammit! I was afraid of this. What the hell happened? I thought a couple of Sawyer's men were taking Horton directly from the hospital."
"A couple of Sawyer's agents were killed and whoever killed them took Seth. Dom was there when the feds showed up. He had no way of knowing these guys weren't who they said they were. They showed the sheriffs deputy the proper ID. Fake ID, we now realize. But Dom's blaming himself for not suspecting something."
"Tell him not to. You're right—there's no way he could have known. But with Horton dead, we're no closer to discovering the identity of his superior in the Loyalists Coalition than we were from day one."
"Are you going to tell Miss Caroline?" Jack nodded to the bedroom.
"Later. Before someone else tells her." Wolfe looked directly at Jack. "Screen the calls for a few hours. She needs her rest"
"I can do that," Jack said, then hesitated before saying, "The boss called. She wanted to know how much longer you were going to need three of her top agents."
"What did you tell her?"
"I told Ms. Denby not to expec
t us back until you were a hundred percent sure Miss Caroline was safe."
"Thanks."
"After this mess is over and things are settled, are you going to hang around?" Jack asked. "If that woman looked at me the way she looks at you, dynamite couldn't blast me from her side for the rest of my life."
"It's none of your. . . Truth is that I want to stay with her, but it's not possible."
Jack nodded, then headed downstairs. David was grateful that the long, tall Texan hadn't pressed him for an explanation.
He grinned with triumph as he laid down the copy of the file he had borrowed from another Peacekeepers agent. Someone else had done a good job of finding out everything the Loyalists Coalition needed to know about David Wolfe. With the joy of discovery, he beat on his desk repeatedly, then shoved back his chair and bounded to his feet. At last, all the pieces had fallen into place. He'd known there was something not right about David Wolfe. Now he knew exactly what. He had Wolfe and Ellison Penn by the short hairs and they didn't even know it. A wide, self-satisfied smile spread across his face.
David Wolfe was Aidan Colbert! He had to be. Everything fit too neatly. With the help of a few reliable sources, he had unearthed the truth. And Ellison Penn had known all along, had probably even been the one to contact Wolfe and bring him in to guard Caroline McGuire. God, what irony—the man protecting Caroline was the same man who had executed her beloved stepfather.
Of course he couldn't prove David Wolfe's true identity, but he didn't have a single doubt. After all, two and a half years ago, Ellison Penn had taken a severely injured man to a clinic in Switzerland and admitted him under a John Doe alias. This had occurred only days after Aidan Colbert had supposedly died in a bomb explosion, giving his life to save a bunch of kids. This John Doe character had remained at the clinic for more than nine months, and when he left the clinic, he had walked out as David Wolfe, with all the credentials to prove he was a former CIA agent. The only thing was that there wasn't one CIA agent around who could remember David Wolfe. Hell, Ellison had even called in a favor from an old friend, Sam Dundee, to arrange a job for Wolfe.
He could understand Ellison taking care of a Peacekeepers agent, even falsifying records to show that Aidan Colbert had died and then resurrecting him as David Wolfe. But calling Wolfe in to protect Caroline had been a major mistake. And Ellison Penn didn't make mistakes. So, what was going on?
He snapped his fingers. Of course! That was it. Ellison wanted to make sure whatever evidence might be unlocked with Caroline's key would wind up in his hands. And the Peacekeepers' President didn't completely trust anyone the way he had trusted Aidan Colbert.
Ellison had taken a chance of exposing himself if anyone discovered Wolfe's true identity, but then Ellison didn't think anyone would be smart enough to figure it out. He had a great deal to do if he was going to stop Ellison and protect the organization. The first step was to get Caroline McGuire away from David Wolfe. And he knew just how to accomplish that goal. One phone call was all it would take.
Once Caroline knew that Wolfe had killed Preston Shaw, she would turn against him and walk away, straight into the arms of the Loyalists Coalition. Then they would have Caroline—and more important, they would have the key to whatever hidden evidence might exist against them.
Caroline lounged cross-legged in the middle of the kitchen, all her mother's belongings spread out around her. Wolfe sat on the bar stool above, watching her as she fingered her mother's lingerie.
"My mother liked the finer things in life," Caroline said. "She bought only the best."
"The best thing in her life was you, but she never knew your true worth." Wolfe returned the smile Caroline gave him.
"People were never that important to Mother, not unless they could do something for her. Things were what mattered to her. The things money could buy."
Caroline neatly folded the lingerie and placed it in the suitcase to her left, then she picked up the jewelry chest. Wolfe watched her as she examined the twelve-inch-square brown alligator-skin case, trimmed and studded in brass. Caroline turned the small key, which was already in the lock, and opened the jewelry box. Inside were more than a dozen pieces of rather nice jewelry. Caroline inspected each piece. A couple of rings, one pearl and the other diamond. She held up the diamond.
"This was Mother's engagement ring. . .the one Preston gave her." She slipped the ring on her finger and found it a bit too loose. "Funny. I always thought my hands were larger than Mother's. She was so elegantly slender."
Caroline dropped the rings back into the case. She picked up several bracelets, then returned them, one by one. She lifted a necklace, rabies and diamonds, then dropped it back on its velvet bed. The final piece she retrieved was a large heart-shaped pendant on a gold chain.
"Preston gave this to Mother, too. For their anniversary, the year he died." Caroline held up what appeared to be an antique piece, perhaps from the 1920s, with tiny diamonds surrounding an onyx, diamond and gold filigree heart-shaped locket of some sort.
"That's an unusual pendant," Wolfe said. "May I see it?"
Caroline held it up and he reached down to grasp it in his hand, then sat back and cupped the necklace in his palm.
Wolfe's gut instincts kicked into play, alerting him that this piece of jewelry struck a chord in his memory. But why? What was it about this object that seemed familiar? The note! The note Shaw wrote to his wife Lenore. What had it said? Something about looking into her heart.
"Caroline?"
"Hmm-mmm?" She glanced up at him. "I'd like to read the letter your stepfather left in the safe, one more time," Wolfe said. "Why?"
"That locket triggered a memory," he told her. "Something in the note to your mother."
"I can tell you exactly what the note said. I've memorized it."
"Tell me the part about keeping the key safe and looking into your heart."
"All right," Caroline said, then quoted, "Safeguard this key and the identical one in your possession. They unlock the means by which to keep our family safe, after I am gone. Look into your heart for the proof of my love for you and the children."
"Look into your heart," Wolfe repeated. "For the proof."
Caroline stared at the pendant, then gazed at the jewelry box. "Oh, my God! Wolfe, do you think—"
"Lock the jewelry box, then remove the key and compare it to yours," he said. "Then use your key to see if it will unlock the box."
She followed his instructions. She locked the case, then removed the key. With shaky fingers she slipped the chain from around her neck, opened the catch and slipped the key off the chain. She held her key in one hand and the key to the box in the other, then brought them together.
"A perfect match," Wolfe said.
"Do you think. . .?"
She slid the key into the keyhole and turned, then smiled up at Wolfe when they heard a faint click. The box unlocked. She jumped up and threw her arms around Wolfe's neck.
"We found what the key unlocks," she said. "But there are no papers in there—" she pointed to the jewelry case "—so the evidence has to be here somewhere."
Wolfe held up the locket for her to see. "Look inside your heart."
"The heart-shaped locket!" Caroline gasped. "But what sort of evidence would fit into something so small?" "There's one way to find out. Shall we open it?" "Yes, please. Open it now."
Wolfe examined the pendant, trying to ascertain the exact location of the catch. Just as he found it and applied pressure to open it, Jack Parker stuck his head into the kitchen.
"Sorry to bother y'all," Jack said. "But I've got a rather insistent twosome out here demanding to see Miss Caroline."
"What twosome?" David asked.
"Lyle Jennings and Fletcher Shaw."
"What do they want?" David glared at Jack.
"I told you, they want to see Miss Caroline. Immediately."
"Jack, please show them into the living room," Caroline said. "Wolfe and I will be right out
." She turned to Wolfe, her face alight with happiness. "See if there's anything in the locket, then we'll be able to show whatever there is to Fletch and Lyle."
"Caroline!" Fletcher's voice called loudly. "Oh, dear, something must be wrong," Caroline said. "I'd better go see what he's so upset about."
The moment Caroline's back was turned, Wolfe opened the locket. His pulse rate accelerated when he recognized the small dark coil of microfilm hidden away inside the golden heart. He turned the locket over and dumped the microfilm out into his hand. If this tiny photographic film contained the evidence Preston Shaw claimed it did, then Caroline would soon be safe from her stepfather's cohorts. Once the evidence came to light, with names and dates, Caroline would no longer be in danger.
Before Caroline reached the door, Fletcher and Lyle came barging into the kitchen. Right behind them Jack Parker reached out and grabbed both men by the backs of their necks. That's when Wolfe noticed that Fletcher Shaw had his hand in his pocket and the outline of a pistol showed plainly through the cloth. Wolfe slipped the microfilm into his pocket, along with the keys.
"Please, Jack, let them go," Caroline said. Jack looked to Wolfe for permission. He nodded. Jack released his two captives.
"Wolfe, you're fired," Fletcher said as he straightened his crooked collar. "Or should I call you Aidan Colbert?"
Wolfe's gaze locked with his accuser's glare. At that precise moment, it really didn't matter now how Fletcher had found out who David Wolfe really was. What mattered was how much he knew and what he was going to tell Caroline.
"Fletcher, what are you talking about?" Caroline looked from her stepbrother to Wolfe. "Why does he think your name is Aidan Colbert?"
"Because that's what it is, isn't it?" Fletcher said, brandishing the 9 mm he'd whipped out of his pocket. "Don't get upset by this gun, Caroline. Its sole purpose is to make sure we don't have any trouble getting your bodyguard and his associates to leave."
Ignoring Fletcher and the weapon he held, she focused all her attention on Wolfe's face. "Is he right? Is Fletch right? Is your name not David Wolfe? Is it really Aidan Colbert?"
Sweet Caroline's Keeper Page 24
