Lara wriggled her wrists to no avail. The harder she pulled, the more the knot tightened. The door swung open and banged against the bedroom wall. Her heart leaped into her mouth. Sweat broke out on her forehead, and she thought she might vomit. The man standing in the open doorway held a red scarf in one hand.
Chapter Six
“Hank?” she managed to croak. “Is Mack cuffed? Was he the one?” The drug must have dulled her senses. The look on her partner’s face scared her more than Mack ever could have.
“Hello, Lara.” He appeared calm—too calm. The hunger raging in his eyes as his gaze traveled over her nakedness told another story. “You’re as beautiful as I’ve imagined.”
Her heart thumped while her mind whirred with the implications of her situation. Surprise and fear must have showed in her expression because laughter rumbled in Hank’s chest.
“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue? Never thought I’d see the day you’d be at a loss for words. Not my take charge, Lara.”
Perhaps she could buy some time and come up with a plan. “I don’t understand. What’s going on? I don’t find this at all funny.”
Hank’s mouth twisted into a crooked smile. “You’re too smart to play the dumb blonde. You knew the moment I walked in the door what was coming down.”
“The man I know isn’t a murderer.”
For a moment, a twinge of regret passed over his features. Or perhaps it was wishful thinking on her part.
“The first one was an accident.” His hands caressed the silk scarf as if it were a lover. “The pleasure I experienced when she ceased breathing…” Hank shuddered, and then regained composure. “I have no choice, Lara,” he said as if talking to a simpleton. “I have to feel that sensation again…and again. I need it.”
Hank moved closer to the bed. “I’ve wanted you for a long time. The pleasure I’ll have the instant you die will be my greatest yet.”
“You need help, Hank.” God, even to her own ears, her words sounded inane.
He sank onto the mattress beside her. A trembling hand reached over to cup her breast. He squeezed, gently at first, then hard enough to bring a cry of pain to her lips.
“I’ve wanted you for a long time. I need to ejaculate inside your womb at the precise moment you die. It didn’t have to be this way for us. If only you’d let us be lovers.”
Lara twisted away as best she could. “Stop it. I don’t want you touching me.”
“By the time I’m done, you’ll want me as much as I want you. Relax, Lara. Let yourself enjoy it.”
Hank rose and rapidly stripped off his clothes. She turned her head away and tried to think. Her very nature refused to give up hope, but her brain was fuzzy—either from the drug she’d been given or from fear that she was doomed. The end result was the same. She couldn’t come up with an escape plan.
Her head came off the pillow when he kneeled on the bed between her legs. “Hank, I’m warning you. Lay one finger on me, and you’re a dead man.”
He chuckled and ran his finger up the inside of her thigh. “You’re a good cop. You know better than to make empty threats.”
Leaning forward, he lifted her head and carefully positioned a second red scarf around her neck, tying it loosely as he arranged the long ends between her breasts. He then sat back on his heels and examined her.
The sight of him on his haunches, naked and staring at her suddenly struck her as ludicrous. Her nervous reaction to danger had always been to laugh. A huge hysterical giggle lay in her chest, trying to travel up her throat and break out. She swallowed several times. Laughing at Hank would not be a good thing.
“Hank, listen to me.” Lara hated the desperation in her voice. “You’ll never get away with this. Cut your losses now. Turn yourself in.”
His eyes glazed over. “Of course I’ll get away with it. Mack’s looking for a place to dump your body. When he gets back, he’ll rough me up. I’m prepared to be beaten. Then he’ll carry you out to the Lincoln and you’ll end up in some alley. Being a concerned citizen, he’ll place an anonymous call to the precinct to tell them that he witnessed someone carrying a body out of this building. You see, sweetheart,” he whispered as he leaned down to trail his tongue across her belly, “I almost lost my own life trying to save you.”
With no warning, the door splintered open. “Freeze!” Two uniformed cops burst into the room. Hank rolled to the floor in one fluid motion, grabbing for his clothes.
“Watch it,” Lara yelled. “He has a weapon.” She saw the slight hesitation in the young cops’ expressions. Seeing two well-known detectives in their precinct naked together had to be a shock.
She let out a sigh when one of the men tackled Hank. The other quickly slapped on the cuffs.
“Are you all right?” Reino rushed through the doorway toward the bed. The knots in the scarves held fast, so he used his jackknife to cut her free.
Reino pulled the spread off the bed and wrapped it around her nakedness. With total disregard for their audience, he gathered her close and murmured in her ear. “You’re safe now. Thank God. I was so afraid they wouldn’t get here in time.”
“How did you know?” she asked with a serenity she was far from feeling. She wanted to throw herself at Reino and thank him for saving her life. She refused to put on a show for the rookies.
“I followed you from the club. No one went into this building after you and the goon who drove you. Hank kept looking at his watch. When he got out of his car, carrying a red scarf, it all clicked into place. I wanted to tackle him on the sidewalk, but knew if I did, he’d still be on the streets to kill again. So I called the precinct and told them what was happening.” The tenderness in Reino’s eyes almost melted her heart. “Isn’t that what cops do?”
“It is.” She touched his cheek. “You did good.”
Hank’s maniacal laugh broke the tender moment. “I wish I could be around when this young stud dumps you on your ass.”
The arm around Lara’s shoulders stiffened. Reino’s fingers dug into her skin. “Shut up, Hank,” she said. “Whatever happens in my life is none of your damn business. Help him get his pants on, read him his Miranda rights and book him.”
* * * *
Lara sat behind her desk and grimaced as she drank from her cup. The coffee had turned cold. She couldn’t remember ever being this exhausted. Muscle fatigue attacked every inch of her body. Her head pounded like a dozen jackhammers were doing their best to break through her skull.
Hank had been booked, called a lawyer and now sat in jail, waiting to make bail. Lara hoped he’d be waiting a long time. Surely, no judge in his right mind would let him out on the streets. Somewhere along the line, her partner had snapped. She hadn’t suspected that he walked the thin line between sanity and insanity.
Bob tried to shoulder the blame. As a supervisor, all decisions were his responsibility. Lara managed to convince him it wasn’t anyone’s fault they hadn’t picked up on Hank’s unstable psyche.
“Hey babe,” Reino’s sexy voice preceded him into the room. “You ready to go?”
“Don’t call me that,” she sniped. “You know I hate it.”
“You look like death warmed over.”
“Gee, thanks,” Lara drawled. “You always know what to say to win a woman’s heart.”
As usual, he ignored her sarcasm. “Come on, let’s go. I’ve got a surprise for you. Bob says he doesn’t want to see you for at least five days, so I went to your apartment and packed some clothes.”
Lara pushed her aching body out of the chair. She must be tired because she couldn’t even muster any anger over the fact that Reino had pawed through her bureau drawers. She grabbed her coat off the rack, picked up her purse and followed him out of the building. It was only when the fifty-seven Chevy cruised down Route 128 that she thought to ask where they were going.
“Gloucester. We never made it there the last time.”
Lara rested her head on the back of the seat and shut her eyes. The
drone of the engine lulled her to sleep.
“Wake up,” the voice insisted. “It’s a tequila sunrise. You don’t want to miss it.”
Lara forced her eyes open and wished for some toothpicks to prop her lids open. Reino was right. The predominant reds intermingled with yellow, the resulting color like that of the drink. A gorgeous sunrise.
“Wow. You get to see this every morning?”
“I’m an early riser, so yeah, I do, when I’m home.”
“I like to sleep late.”
“That’s because you live in the city. Move out here, and you’ll be raring to go at five a.m.”
That’s what you think.
Reino turned onto a gravel driveway that wound its way uphill. A large white sign greeted them as they drove through the open wrought iron gates. Larkin Construction.
He pulled the car into one of several parking spaces in front of an old sea captain’s home. Lara glared at him. “Bastard. You lied to me. You don’t pound nails. You own the freakin’ construction company.”
Reino grinned at her. “Hey! You’re the one who assumed I pounded nails for a living. Besides, I like to ruffle your feathers. Gives me an excuse to smooth them back into place.”
He was right. She’d jumped to the conclusion all on her own. She had no defense. There were Larkin Construction signs all over the state. No wonder Reino could afford muscle cars. “I feel like a fool,” she admitted with a sigh. “I’m not usually so judgmental.”
“No problem. Didn’t faze me.”
“Not much does,” Lara muttered, and fumbled to open the car door. The pungent ocean smell relaxed her the minute she stepped outside.
The view from the front porch of the house belonged on a calendar. She couldn’t wait to check out the widow’s walk she’d seen on the roof as they drove in. Suddenly, she looked forward to the next five days as an overdue vacation.
Reino unlocked the door and stood aside so Lara could enter. The ceilings in the main foyer were at least twenty feet high. Lara got an immediate sense of what it must have been like to live here in the nineteenth century. She pictured the maids bustling about, dusting the banisters of the spiral staircase visible just ahead to the left. The hardwood floor looked original, but had been sanded and varnished. Someone, her guess, Reino, had put a lot of work into this house.
His arms slid around her from behind. “You’re looking toward the stairs. Ready for bed?”
Without waiting for an answer, he scooped her into his arms and carried her up to the second floor. The bedroom, decorated in the style of late eighteenth century period, belonged on the front page of House Beautiful. “I didn’t realize you got into decorating, as well as restoring cars,” she said as he laid her on the canopied bed.
“Not me. My sister, Sarah. She loves spending my money.”
“It’s beautiful.”
“This is the guest room. My room is very modern…and, at the moment, is decorated like a war zone.”
The mattress sank as Reino settled beside her. With quick precision he rid of her clothes. It never occurred to Lara to argue. Her blood ran hot for him. She’d accepted that. As soon as he buried his cock deep inside her, all would be right with the world.
Reino whispered something, but she couldn’t make out the words because her blood roared in her ears.
She linked her arms around his neck. “Hurry, Reino. I want you.”
His jeans slid to the floor, and he kicked them across the room. “We’re good togeth—”
Lara’s mouth cut off him off. She teased him with her tongue until a rough moan rolled from his throat.
They toppled down and lay on their sides, facing each other. Lara reached down and caressed his growing cock. As much as she wanted to make their lovemaking last, she needed to feel his hugeness pushing between her legs. Reino had given her a new sense of her femininity. “You’ve turned me to mush. Sex is always on my mind. Can we do some experimenting while I’m here?”
“You bet,” he growled. “I can never get enough of you. I bet your legs are tired all the time.”
“Why? From dancing?”
“No, because you’re always running through my mind.”
She giggled and punched his arm. “You’re so damn corny.”
“But you love me.” Reino gently pushed her onto her back, his hand parting her vaginal lips. His thumb kept up a steady circular motion on her clit until Lara wailed and arched her hips. Excitement jumped in her belly. A spiraling sensation started in her toes and traveled up her legs until she exploded like a bottle of shaken coke.
She was slowly drifting back to reality when Reino rolled on top and plunged deep. His tongue dipped briefly in her ear. Lara quickly picked up his rhythm, not surprised that she wanted him again so soon. Her heart danced with happiness. For better or worse, she’d see this relationship to wherever it took them.
Reino raised himself on his elbows and looked at her. A sheen of perspiration glowed on his face, his breathing ragged. In the throes of passion, he looked like he was in pain.
Lara wrapped her legs around his waist, opening herself further. He drove into her hard and fast. Her fingers clutched the sheet, the second orgasm taking her by total surprise. Her climax pushed Reino over the edge.
* * * *
Lara pushed aside the white muslin curtain and leaned her forehead on the cool glass. Clouds hung low over the ocean, giving the misty sky an ominous look. The fog horn sounded mournfully at ten second intervals. The first day she’d thought it an eerie sound. Now she’d grown to like it, even found it comforting. After the day they’d arrived, she hadn’t seen the sun.
“More coffee?”
Laura turned to smile at Reino. Hot steam rolled off the tops of the two mugs he held. She stifled a laugh. His hair was a mess, his clothes crumpled, as if he’d slept in them for more than one night. He looked delicious.
He moved to stand beside her and gazed into the fog. “The view is spectacular from here.”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“When there’s no fog, the sight will knock you on your ass.”
“And how often does that happen?” she joked. “Once or twice a year?”
“At least a dozen days.”
She snuggled into his warmth. “Thanks for sharing your home. It’s beautiful.”
“Move in with me,” he murmured into her hair.
Lara shouldn’t be surprised at his question. Actually, she’d expected it. For the past two days, she’d pushed aside fears about the future and enjoyed Reino’s company. Enjoyed the great sex, the fun times and especially the quiet times.
Last night she’d almost asked him if he loved her. Thank God the words had stuck in her throat like a dry cracker.
Reino put an arm around her shoulders and squeezed. “Let’s take a walk.”
She set her mug on the window sill next to his, rested her hands on his chest and smoothed a wrinkle in his shirt. Standing on tiptoe, she rubbed her lips across the stubble on his chin, turned on by the roughness. “I’d rather wait until the sun comes out. Right now I can think of better things to do.”
Green eyes twinkled at her from under his thick lashes. “Is that right? Let me show you another guest room. The one we’ve been using is a mess.”
She ran to the curving staircase.
“Reino?” she asked looking at him over her shoulder. “How often is there a vacancy in the Gloucester Police Department?”
* * * *
Totally engrossed in watching the sway of her butt as she climbed the stairs, he wasn’t sure he’d heard her right. “What did you say?”
She sighed. “Never mind.”
Reino grabbed her arm. “Say it again.”
“I love you.”
“Oh, baby. I’ve been waiting forever to hear those words.”
Lara’s cheeks turned pink, but she held his gaze. “I didn’t want to, Reino. I tried hard not to. I couldn’t help myself. And don’t call me baby.”
“If we
go down this road together, I’ll never let you go.”
She grasped his hands and held his gaze with steady blue eyes. “Let’s not worry about the future. What will be, will be.
“I want you forever. Like in partner, friend, lover and wife.”
“Wife?” she squeaked. “I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”
Reino buried his face against her neck to hide his fear. He took a deep breath. He could win her over in a matter of days, hours perhaps, if he worked hard. “Okay, we won’t rush it. For now we’ll live together, get to know each other, enjoy each other’s company. Imagine the fun we’ll have.”
“You really want to marry me?”
He pulled back to look into her face. “I do. Have I done anything to make you doubt my sincerity?”
“Mrs. Reino Larkin,” she tested the words on her tongue. “Not bad. Lara Larkin.” She scowled. “Not so good.”
“Keep your maiden name.”
“No,” she shook her head. “If I marry, then I want to do it the old-fashioned way.”
Happiness strummed through Reino’s veins. “Let’s change and drive to town to apply for a license.”
Lara’s fingers unzipped his jeans. “Later, Reino. We’ve got more pressing matters to take care of right now.”
“To hell with the bedroom,” he growled. “I’ve never done it on the stairs.”
Lara giggled. “It seems like there will be some first times for both of us.” Whoever said love was for the young? She’d found a good man and planned to hang on for dear life.
THE END
www.pamchampagne.net
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Pam lives on 50 rural acres in rural Maine with her husband, two Siamese cats, a black Lab and Percy, a dog rescued from death row in Florida. By day she works in Bangor, Maine as a legal secretary. When not writing, Pam enjoys hunting, fishing or just being outdoors. God blessed her with two beautiful children and two wonderful granddaughters and another one on the way! Pam writes hot romantic suspense, time travel and erotic contemporary.
Dance for Me Page 7
