Getting Lucky m-2

by Susan Andersen

  "I'm going to call first thing in the morning and see if I can get an appointment." Jessica finished putting the salad together. "You want me to make a red-wine dressing for this?"

  "Yes, that'd be great." Lily glanced over as she pulled a tray of browning game hens out of the oven to baste with cranberry vinegar sauce. "If you're able to get an appointment soon and the salon is in town, I'd love to ride along. I need to pick up some mushrooms for a recipe I'm thinking of trying."

  "I'll let you know as soon as I find out when it'll be." As she went to set down the mixed dressing, she noticed a red stain spreading across her white shirt. " Damn ."

  Lily followed her gaze. "What is it, wine? Oh, shoot, did that happen before or after you mixed it with the oil?"

  Jess peered at the stain. "It doesn't seem oily, so I think it must have been before."

  "Good, that's not quite so bad. Turn on the tea kettle." She made a shooing motion as soon as Jessica had done so. "I've got it covered here. Go change, then bring your shirt back down. As long as it's only wine, we can get it out with boiling water."

  Jessica took the stairs two at a time as she headed up to her suite of rooms to change. Life had been so interesting the past few days. She felt prettier and infinitely more with it, and Christopher seemed to like the new her, too. He'd been chasing her around the bedroom steadily since her fashion epiphany.

  She was grinning as she reached the room, but the smile dropped away when she opened the door and heard him hurriedly say, "Gotta go. I'll talk to you soon." He was hanging up the telephone as she walked into their bedroom.

  He seemed to be doing a lot of that lately.

  "Who were you talking to?" she asked as she peeled off her blouse and reached into the closet for a fresh one.

  "No one," he said, and casually shrugged a wide shoulder when she turned to stare at him. "No one you know, in any case. Just someone about a project at work."

  Her stomach squeezed. She loved him so desperately, and had never fully accepted her good luck in catching his attention. It seemed as if she'd spent the last two years waiting for the other shoe to drop, and she wondered if that's what was happening here now.

  She didn't want to believe it, but something was definitely going on. The sad truth was, though, that whatever it was, she didn't want to know.

  Christopher diverted her attention when his gaze tracked over her satin bra. His green eyes darkened.

  "Look at you," he said, climbing to his feet and walking up to her. He trailed a long finger down her strap then traced the dip of the bra's cups between her breasts. "Did you come up here to give me a little pre-dinner appetizer?"

  Muscles deep between her thighs immediately clenched at the idea, but she laughed and stepped away. "No. I just came up to change into a clean blouse. I spilled red wine all over this one. I need to take it back down to the kitchen to get the stain out."

  He took the item of apparel she held out to him and dropped it to the floor without even looking at it. Then he bent to kiss her. His eyes were lambent when he raised his head again, and Jessica realized through a hot haze of arousal that he'd backed her up until the hollows of her knees brushed the side of the bed.

  "I bet fifteen minutes one way or the other won't make a huge difference," he said. And with all ten fingers planted gently on her chest, he gave a little push. He was already reaching for his belt buckle as she tumbled backward onto the bed. "Whataya say we test that theory?"

  She squeezed her eyes shut and hung on for dear life when he lowered himself over her. Whatever else happened, she thought dazedly, for now she at least had this.

  Chapter 16

  OUT ON THE VERANDA LATE FRIDAY AFTERnoon, Lily found a sunny corner sheltered from the wind and stretched out on a lounge chair to admire the view. It managed to stun her with pleasure every time she saw it. Spring flowers bloomed in profusion at the base of the veranda, and the emerald lawn swept in faultlessly groomed perfection to the rugged promontory. Water crashed upon the rocks at the foot of the cliffs and clouds chased across the sky, sending shadows racing along the channel. The ever-changing colors and the scattering of small tree-covered islands dotting the narrow passage held her enthralled as they had done ever since the mist lifted Tuesday afternoon and she'd caught her first glimpse of it.

  Recalling that day took a little of the shine off her enjoyment. Tuesday was the night she'd acknowledged she was falling in love with Zach, and she wasn't proud of the fact that she still hadn't really dealt with the issue. Every night since then had found the two of them in either his bed or hers, wrapped around each other and making love that was sometimes wild and intense, sometimes slow and languid. He couldn't seem to stay away from her any more than she could from him, nor did he appear to be dealing with his emotions any better than she was hers. And if he harbored feelings anything like her own, he hadn't voiced them. For a couple of outspoken people, they were certainly being tight-lipped, and knowing she was in no burning hurry to rectify the situation left her feeling fickle, immature, and antsy. She appreciated the scenery all the more, therefore, because something about watching the capriciousness of nature, of seeing its elements blending in harmony one moment, then competing for supremacy the next, helped soothe some of her own plaguing indecisiveness.

  "I thought I might find you here."

  Lily looked up to see Jessica approach and smiled as her new friend swung a long leg over the chaise next to hers and collapsed onto its cushioned surface. "Yes, what can I say?" Her smile turned wry. "The sun feels so nice, and I adore this view."

  "It is pretty, isn't it?"

  "Um-hmm."

  Falling into a companionable silence, they lounged side by side, exchanging only a minimum of desultory conversation over the next half hour. Eventually, though, Lily glanced at her watch and regretfully sat up. For several moments she simply perched on the edge of the chaise; then, with a sigh over the need to drag herself away from the drugging warmth of her protected little corner, she rose to her feet. "I'd better go get dinner started."

  Jessica glanced at her watch. "This a little earlier than usual, isn't it?"

  "Yes, butI'll need the extra time." She grinned down at the other woman, who shaded her eyes to gaze back at her. "You have any interest in learning to make risotto?"

  "Oh, yes. Absolutely." Jessica joined her as Lily made her way down the terrace steps. The wind they'd been protected from in the lee of the mansion caught them as they rounded the corner, and Jessica's thick hair rose up and writhed like Medusa's snaky locks around her face.

  With a frustrated sound, she attempted to anchor it down with her hands, but vagrant pieces caught in the wind and whipped across her cheeks. "That haircut appointment can't come soon enough for me."

  Lily grinned at her as they dashed for the kitchen door. "It's not for another week yet?"

  "Not unless they get a cancellation, in which case I'm on the list. Please" she implored humorously as they barreled through the door and banged it closed against the wind chasing them into the room. "Let somebody cancel soon."

  The risotto garnered compliments when it was dished up a short while later, but dinner itself turned out to be a strained affair. Zach attempted once again to convince Mrs. Beaumont to call in the FBI to handle the ransom, but she remained stubbornly resistant. Although his manner remained courteous, Lily could tell he was frustrated and angry, and the moment she finished cleaning up the kitchen she headed for his room.

  "Are you okay?" she asked as soon as he answered the door in response to her knock.

  "She makes me crazy, Lily." He hauled her into the room, but once the door closed behind her he turned her loose and began to pace. "Not that we wouldn't have had to think twice about contacting the FBI anyway, since Rocket discovered the closest special agent in charge is a known glory seeker, but—"

  "Then I don't get it," she interrupted, but found herself speaking to his back as he stalked toward the desk on the other side of the room. "If that's the case,
why do you still keep trying to convince Mrs. B. to call them?"

  He about-faced and strode back in her direction, his eyebrows lowered. "Because she doesn't know that, and I wanted to see her reaction. Usually leaving the authorities out of the loop is a huge mistake, and for all she knows, refusing to contact them could seriously endanger Glynnie and David." His stiff-set shoulders twitched restlessly. "I can't figure out if she truly believes the kidnapper will harm them if the feds are called in—or if that's exactly what she's counting on."

  Lily recalled lying in his arms the other night while he'd told her what his friend Rocket had dug up. The idea of having to suspect anyone, let alone that sweet, dithery woman… "Oh, man, I hate this."

  "Tell me about it. And just to make our day really special, I got a call from Coop earlier. He and Rocket are over on the dock at Anacortes."

  "That's good news, right?"

  "Well, it would be, except one of the ferries is out of commission, and it's Friday—which is a big travel day for the islands—so the schedule is backed up for hours. They'll be lucky to make the last boat." Agitated energy radiated off him in almost palpable waves as he paced back and forth, and the look he shot her was black. "Which means if the kidnapper follows the plan he laid out, that only leaves part of tomorrow to get together with Coop and John and plan the op. And that means I could lose whatever advantage having them in reserve will give me."

  She walked over and grasped his hand, holding on with both of hers to halt his restless prowling. His skin felt hot beneath her fingers as she led him to the bed and pushed him down onto it. Climbing onto the mattress as well, she kneeled behind where he sat and began to rub his shoulders. "I'm sorry," she said. "But I'm sure everything will be all right. You'll feel better once your friends get here."

  Zach felt some of the tension leave his shoulders, and he pushed back into her massaging hands. "Yeah, well. Not much I can do about it anyhow." He didn't know what it was about her, but she had a way of defusing the worst of his frustration. "Tell me about this dream restaurant of yours."

  Her voice lulled him, and her enthusiasm made him smile. But the feel of her body heat shimmering between them soon distracted him, and he reached over his shoulder and snagged her hand. Pulling her around to his side, he flipped her onto his lap.

  She batted her eyes at him. "Why, Master Sergeant Taylor."

  He lowered his head to kiss her, got lost in her flavor, and had to rip his mouth free. Lust and the disquieting fear of letting her mean too much mixed uneasily in his gut as he looked down at her. "We shouldn't be doing this."

  "I know."

  But he kissed her again anyway—kissed her with everything he had—before pulling back once more. His breath had begun to hitch. "Chances are, no one's gonna need me tonight. But if they do, I can't afford to be distracted."

  "Wouldn't do to be found with your pants down around your ankles," she agreed, and stroked her lush butt up and down the rigid, aching length of his erection.

  It responded by growing harder, a feat he would have sworn wasn't possible. "Right. Uh, Lily?" He sucked in a breath as she once again rubbed against him.

  "Hmm?"

  "Are my eyes crossed?"

  She laughed that warm, wholehearted belly laugh that always made him want to grin back and then tuck her securely under his arm—well, either that or toss her flat on her back and kiss the laughter right out of her. "Beats the heck outta me," she said. "My own view at the moment appears to be limited to the tip of my nose."

  "Ah, man." Helpless to resist, he kissed her again.

  He had her cobalt chenille tunic unbuttoned and was working on the front clasp of her chocolate-colored lace bra when the bedside telephone shrilled. For just an instant, his hand tightened on the fastener as he contemplated ignoring it. Then swearing, he dumped Lily onto the mattress and reached for the phone. "Taylor," he snarled.

  "Zach, come quick," Jessica said in a breathless voice that had him snapping to attention. "The kidnapper is on the other line. Or at least—"

  Zach tossed the receiver back on the hook and ran from the room.

  Thirty minutes later, he was headed out the door with a suitcase full of money and a jaw clenched tight against the desire to curse a blue streak.

  He'd had plans for when the kidnapper called, and not one of them had panned out. First, he'd been set to demand that the kidnapper let him talk to his sister if he ever wanted to see one red cent of the ransom. But instead of an actual person on the other end of the line, he'd gotten a recording. A fucking recording that set out the terms of the exchange in a whispered, androgynous voice that left no room for bargaining or demands. It merely repeated the same spiel over and over again until the tape came to an end. Then, as if that wasn't headache-producing enough, for the life of him he couldn't figure out if David's mother was the most feather-headed woman on planet Earth… or wilier than a Wall Street shark.

  He'd intended to hit *69 the moment he disconnected. Obtaining pertinent information from it was a long shot, since anyone with two brain cells to rub to gether would have used a public phone. But given the probability of this being an inside job, it was still worth pursuing. He'd barely depressed the disconnect button, though, when Mrs. B. had reached past him, punched the button for Richard's room, and then snatched the receiver from his hand, babbling hysterically into it the moment her nephew picked up. The next thing Zach knew, everyone except Cassidy, who'd gone out after dinner, was milling about the parlor all talking at once.

  His jaw tightened even more at the thought of what they wanted him to do. Climbing into the Jeep, he hunched grimly over the steering wheel as he reached for the ignition. This was not smart, and he'd argued against taking the ransom into a blind setup with no precautions in place—particularly without an assurance that Glynnis and David were still in good health and would be returned safely as soon as the money was dropped off. Money that just incidentally had been collected and put in the home-office safe that very afternoon.

  And now, as if things weren't tense enough, he caught a whiff of Lily's scent where it had no business being, and his teeth clenched with such force he was surprised they didn't crack in two. "Christ," he muttered. That was just what he needed. If he'd had half a second without the Beaumonts all yapping at him, he might have thought to wash the smell of her off his hands before setting off. The woman was messing with his mind way too much, and it was past time he quit procrastinating and did something about it. It wasn't like him to let a female distract him the way he'd allowed this one to do.

  And yet…

  Where the hell had she disappeared to? He'd wanted to pull her aside and have her make note of who hung around the parlor while he was gone, and who disappeared for any significant length of time. When in the midst of all the hubbub he'd turned to look for her, however, she was nowhere to be seen.

  Which should give you a clue. That's your entire life in a nutshell. Gunning the engine, he shot up the drive. Barring your unit, which you know will always be here to back you up if they're able, you've got exactly one person you can depend on to be there when needed. That's you, bud. And no one else.

  Miguel saw the master sergeant's SUV shoot out of the driveway and fishtail as it hit the road, and he jerked upright in his car. Dios . He'd begun to think he would fossilize here before anyone finally made a move. It had been the longest six days of his life, and as he watched the vehicle straighten out and then roar off down the road, he reached for the ignition key.

  But his hand dropped back to his side before it connected, leaving the enginestill turned off.He'd only seen one person behind the tinted glass of Taylor's jeep when it had passed beneath the light at the top of the driveway. One .

  The master sergeant. All by himself. Which meant the man's woman had been left behind.

  Ripe for the picking.

  In the past week, Miguel had made careful forays around the estate grounds, trying to figure out what was going on. He'd hadn't been successful, but h
e had learned that there were seven people in residence.

  And the only one he had any cause to worry about had just driven off as if el diablo himself was on his trail.

  Miguel opened the car door and eased out, cursing under his breath when his legs, stiff from hours of sitting in one position, nearly buckled beneath his weight. But there was no need for profanity, he decided, as he bent down to scoop up the empty food wrappers that had wafted out in his wake and tossed them back on the seat with the others. This was the opportunity he'd been waiting for. And if he—how did the gringos say it?—played his cards correctly? Then his long wait was at an end.

  Zach had emptied his mind of everything but the chore at hand by the time he entered Moran State Park, driving slowly beneath its white signature arch. As he approached the Midway camp area moments later, he turned off the Jeep's headlights, then coasted to a stop within the shadow of the shower house by the extra vehicle lot. He killed the engine and sat unmoving until his eyes adjusted to the night. Then he double-checked to make sure he was in the right place.

  sites 31-36, the sign read. His directions were to drop off the suitcase at Site 32, which appeared to be up the hill.

  He reached up and flipped the overhead light switch to "Off." Then, picking up the money satchel from the passenger seat, he eased out of the Jeep and closed the door quietly behind him, glad to see the wind had died down. Cascade Lake lapped gently at the shore across the main road as he made his silent way in the opposite direction.

  The spur road to the camp area climbed steeply for a short stretch before curving to the right around the hill, but he left it before reaching that point and cut up over the bank. The site he sought was likely to be second in line just around the bend, but marching up the road in search of it didn't strike him as the shrewdest move he could make. Doing what he was trained to do seemed to him a better bet. He picked his way through the woods with care, traversing damp undergrowth and downed trees as he climbed the hill.