Sex and the Sleepwalker

by Donna Sterling

  With a grateful murmur, Lexi left them again.

  Sitting up with determination this time, Brynn cast a glance over her shoulder that was both apologetic and teasingly provocative. “We’ll have to discuss my ‘unmet need’ later. And, uh, come up with a plan.”

  Cade sat back against the pillows and watched her rise from the bed. “It’ll be my pleasure,” he assured her.

  As she left his room, she heard him softly whistling a tune she remembered from an old-fashioned carnival ride.

  “I’M SORRY IT’S TAKEN so long to return your calls, chérie.” Antoine’s mellifluous, French-accented voice instigated a vague ache in Brynn’s stomach. She hated breaking up with boyfriends. She hated disappointing them…or anyone, for that matter. But the time had definitely come to put an end to her relationship with Antoine. “My cell phone has not been reliable on the road,” he was saying, “and my business has been keeping me much too busy.”

  “Antoine, I know this isn’t the best time to discuss our relationship, but…” With her own cell phone to her ear, Brynn left the front desk of the inn, ducked into the small private office and shut the door. “Remember the discussion we had before you left?”

  “Discussion? What discussion would that be?”

  “Well, I said that maybe I’m not the right woman for you. You deserve someone who’s more uninhibited, sexwise. You should be free to date other women, and I, too, should be free to—”

  “Oh, that discussion. You see, I’ve put it completely out of my mind. You were speaking nonsense, Brynn. I am—how do you say?—crazy about you, and only you.”

  “I’m flattered, Antoine, but I’ve decided it’s for the best if we, um, break up.”

  “Break up? I’m not sure what this phrase means, chérie. But you think I’m on the road too much, no? You are angry and bored, and lonely without me. I will make it up to you, mon coeur. I will be home soon. I will cancel all my—” A sound like static, or maybe scratching over the mouthpiece of the phone, interrupted his passionate declarations. “Brynn, are you there? Brynn, I adore you, and—” The harsh noise resumed, and the line went dead.

  Brynn heaved a sigh of frustration and waited for him to call back. The phone did not ring. Either he was in an area that offered a poor connection for his cell phone, or he’d purposely ended the call.

  But that last thought wasn’t fair to Antoine. He’d never given her reason to think he was the scheming kind.

  She’d simply have to wait for his next call to make him understand that their relationship was, in fact, over.

  7

  WHEN SHE FIRST LEFT his bed, Cade’s plan was simple and direct. They’d have sex. As soon as possible. He could barely believe that after so many years of wanting Brynn, fantasizing about her, she was finally saying yes. That knowledge alone was an incredible turn-on.

  But as he gave the situation more thought, he began to worry. From what she’d said in her sleep, she seemed to be looking for a “sexual adventure.” And he’d assumed that their lovemaking, in and of itself, would more than qualify. From his perspective, nothing could be more thrilling than making love to Brynn, no matter where they were or how they did it. But what if she wanted something beyond good old-fashioned sex? Something more…adventurous?

  He also had to keep in mind what she’d said the first time she’d come to his room in her sleep. She’d mentioned being frigid. A “dud in bed.” And though she’d actually been insisting that she was neither of those things, he took it as a clear example of the lady protesting too much.

  Not that he believed she was frigid or a dud in bed. He didn’t. But what if her real “unmet need” was to be reassured? Once she had sex with him, she would be reassured. She’d then have no reason to make love to him again. With her psychological need fulfilled, he might become obsolete!

  Okay, that chance was slim, since the sex was bound to be fantastic, but the chance did exist. And he wanted more than just one time with her. Nine years of bottled-up desire couldn’t be discharged that easily, no matter how great the sex. It would take a whole week of being together, in his estimation. Maybe even two.

  He clearly needed a better plan than just inviting her to his bed. Something adventurous. Something that would take longer than just one night.

  He gave the matter constant thought and, over the course of that Saturday morning, a plan slowly evolved. An ingenious plan. One that would fulfill her needs along with his, and would require several days and nights of intimacy.

  The wisdom of his new, improved plan was confirmed early that afternoon, just before the pregame festivities got into full swing. As he leaned against a column on the wide front porch of the inn, watching Brynn help the Kappa Alphas paint their faces red and black, his cell phone rang. Cade wandered into the yard to avoid being overheard.

  “I’m running a check on the names and photos you sent.” It was John Sutherland, detective with the Atlanta PD. Cade’s college buddy. Brynn’s brother.

  “So am I,” Cade said. “In case you miss something.”

  John grumbled at that—something about the “goddamn arrogant feds”— but it was only lighthearted, token resistance to sharing jurisdiction on the case. Ordinarily, he’d likely have fought any involvement of federal agents, Cade knew. In this instance, however, he had asked for Cade’s help.

  “I didn’t get a photo of Antoine Moreau yet,” Cade told him. “He’s been away on a business trip, supposedly. Have you met him, by the way? Brynn’s boyfriend.”

  “No. She hasn’t said much about him, either.”

  Cade’s suspicions about Antoine grew. Were they based on professional instinct, or personal jealousy? He had to admit, at least to himself, that he’d love to bust the guy just for his relationship with Brynn. “Trish told me he dropped by her mother’s house a month ago—a nephew she hadn’t seen in twenty years. Son of her late sister. Everyone bought it, without question. The timing bothers me.”

  “Yeah. It bothers me, too. Let’s check him out.” In an abrupt change of topic, John asked, “Have you seen the news?”

  “Tell me the television coverage wasn’t your idea.”

  “Hell, no, it wasn’t. This precinct has more leaks than the Titanic. All we can do is hope that the publicity doesn’t send the abductor underground. Then we’d have no way of finding his victims, or of knowing when or where he’ll strike next. I don’t think I could take that.”

  The suggestion of vulnerability wasn’t like John. He’d never been one to show weakness of any kind. Cade understood why he did now, though. His sister could be targeted by this abductor, if the pattern held true. The fact that John was leading the investigation might make the challenge more attractive to the psycho—and make for dramatic press coverage. Right up the Piper’s alley.

  John, who’d been out of touch with Cade since college, had called him in to covertly check out the newcomers to Brynn’s circle of acquaintances. And, of course, to protect her. John himself had his hands full, trying to protect his staff’s families while working to apprehend the abductor.

  Cade hadn’t hesitated. He’d boarded a plane for Georgia before the authorization from his own supervisor had been final. And he’d been keeping his eye on Brynn ever since—with the help of an impromptu team of deputies in plain clothes who maintained a discreet perimeter around the inn.

  Problem was, they had no idea whom they were guarding her against. They believed the Piper became personally involved with his victims in some way. There’d been no signs of struggle in any of the disappearances, and one woman—the wife of a patrolman—had left a phone message for him that she’d be home late because of a “business meeting.” Which was odd, considering she worked as a waitress…and her co-workers had had no clue what she’d meant. The other two victims of the Piper had been described by their friends as “secretive” and “distracted” before their disappearance. The bastard clearly used some kind of psychological ploy to lure the women away from home. His choice of the nicknam
e “Pied Piper” only added to that conclusion.

  Cade intended to scrutinize every person who came into contact with Brynn, from now until the Piper was caught.

  “One good thing came from the leak to the media, though, Bucko,” John said.

  Cade smiled at that. He’d forgotten John’s habit of calling his friends by whatever crazy nickname came to mind. Bud. Tiger. Jackeroo. They’d had some good times together, he and John, before his relationship with Brynn had strained their friendship. Amazing how life-threatening danger could put old conflicts into perspective. “What good came out of the media leak?” Cade asked.

  “We got a tip from a hotel in Monticello, Florida. One of the maids swears she saw the latest victim the day after she’d been declared missing. She was seen leaving a hotel room with some guy.”

  Cade whistled, soft and low. He liked tips like that. “Did he use a credit card to check in, or flash any ID?”

  “No. Paid cash. Wrote down an invalid license plate number. Signed in under ‘J. Smith.’”

  “Creative. Did we get a description of him, at least?”

  “Not a great one, but the maid does remember that he was tall. Over six feet. Medium brown hair, she said. And he wore ‘fancy’ sunglasses.”

  Cade flashed back to the description Lexi had given him of Antoine Moreau. Over six feet tall. His hair “tawny.” And he’d definitely sounded like the type to wear designer sunglasses. “It’s more than we had to go on before,” Cade murmured. “And we have a general direction to search in now, considering they were spotted in Florida. Did the suspect or victim leave anything behind in the hotel room?”

  “No. And the room was cleaned after they left, then rented out several times since. Little chance of finding any useful fingerprints or fiber evidence. But this Piper bastard did leave us one more clue.”

  The anxious edge had returned to John’s voice, Cade noticed. Bracing himself, he said, “Yeah?”

  “Phone records show that he made a brief call from the hotel room.”

  “To whom?”

  “The Three Sisters Bed & Breakfast Inn.”

  Anxiety formed a knot in Cade’s chest. The abductor had called Brynn’s inn. Which meant John’s fear had been valid. She was one of the Piper’s targets.

  Had he been making a reservation at the inn, the first step in his plan to get close to her? Or had he already taken the preliminary steps, and was calling to touch base with his latest “girlfriend”?

  Tense over that last possibility, Cade cast a glance at the gentle, beautiful, smiling woman who was now fitting a red-and-black dog collar around Smitty’s neck. “I’d say it’s time we tell her what’s going on.”

  “I’ve been over this a thousand times in my mind,” John said. “I’m so damned tempted to explain the situation, send her away somewhere safe—if there is such a place—and hunt this bastard down. But if we send Brynn away, he’ll know we’re on to him and just disappear…until he strikes again. His victims might never be found, and Brynn could end up living in fear the rest of her life, which might not be long if this nutcase is clever and ruthless enough. Right now, we know where he’s headed. We can set a trap.”

  “With your sister as bait.” Cade’s stomach clenched.

  “With my sister heavily guarded, and the U.S. Marshal Service’s top man watching her every move.”

  Cade let the compliment slide by without acknowledgment. John was an astute cop. He knew that Cade, with years of top-notch training, plus field experience guarding witnesses in the Federal Witness Protection Program, would give his life for anyone under his care, if need be. John also knew that Cade would give up whatever vacation he had coming or take a leave without pay, if necessary, to protect Brynn.

  “Don’t you see, Cade, that we can’t even warn her?” John said. “If she knew that some psycho was planning to drop by and socialize, she’d close down the inn to protect her guests, and would warn all her friends about the danger. Even if we made her swear to keep the matter secret, there’s no guarantee she would.” He paused, then went on with a dry little laugh. “This might sound crazy, but when she gets stressed, she walks and talks in her sleep.”

  Cade made no comment. He wasn’t about to admit that he knew. He wasn’t sure how John would take the news that he’d been reaping the benefits from that particular vulnerability. Something told him Brynn’s brother wouldn’t be amused.

  But John did have a valid point. Brynn could easily blow his cover in her sleep, or at least rouse suspicions.

  “Even if she didn’t talk in her sleep,” John added, “everyone who knows her would be aware that something was seriously wrong. And the abductor would back off—until later, when our guard was down. We can’t take that chance.”

  Unfortunately, Cade agreed. They couldn’t take the chance. He couldn’t even tell Brynn his real occupation. If the abductor got word that a U.S. marshal had suddenly come to stay with her, he’d smell a trap and run. There was only one logical course to take. While John used all his resources to track down the Pied Piper, Cade would have to expedite the investigation from the inside, as well as protect Brynn, all without letting her know his true purpose.

  There was a silver lining behind the dark cloud, though. He now had every justification his conscience could possibly need to keep her with him, day and night, until the Piper was caught. And that could mean weeks.

  The new plan he’d worked out to stop her from sleepwalking would fit in perfectly with that agenda. Now all he had to do was convince her to go along with it.

  “HEY, WHAT D’YA CALL a Kentucky Wildcat in Sanford Stadium?” shouted a wiry, sunburned, shirtless student in a red-and-black Bulldog cap as he leaned out the window of a crowded SUV.

  “The winner,” a coed in blue yelled from the passenger seat of a convertible stuck in traffic behind the SUV.

  “No. Dawg food!” The guys in the SUV cheered, barked and howled. Others called, “Here, kitty kitty kitty.”

  The gals in the convertible chanted pro-Wildcat slogans, drawing noisy support from passengers in other Kentucky-plated vehicles. The burly driver of a pickup truck with University of Kentucky flags shouted, “Hey, you dawgs! Tuck your tails between your legs. You probably don’t have much else there.”

  Kentucky fans hooted, and the Bulldog fans switched from yelling “Kitty kitty kitty” to a word of the same meaning but with lewd connotations, much to the hilarity of pro-Georgia bystanders on both sides of the street.

  Game day had arrived.

  And game day in Athens, especially the season opener, meant all-day celebrations for both the home team’s fans and the visitors. A ceaseless parade of traffic had been streaming onto campus and past the Three Sisters Bed & Breakfast Inn since early that morning. The choicest parking spots had been taken already by die-hard fans who had arrived on Friday and camped overnight. Vans, RVs, trucks and cars parked in nearby yards, lots and every open stretch of campus that wasn’t posted as off-limits, as well as a few that were.

  Students, alumni, faculty, staff and football fans of all ages set up for tailgating parties. Hopes were high for their team’s new season. The Bulldog fans and the Wildcat supporters roasted each other with good-natured insults, boasts and challenges. Music—mostly Southern rock, bluegrass and rap—blared from every direction, along with sports commentary from portable televisions. Barbecue grills sizzled, and the afternoon air was fragrant with hickory smoke, beer, booze and the lush summer foliage of the wooded Georgia campus. Laughter, quips and shouts hummed all around like electricity over a high-voltage wire.

  Brynn took in the excitement from the porch of the inn. Because the Three Sisters was tucked between sorority houses on “Greek Street,” their lawn party merged with the activity in neighboring yards and with the lively parade of pedestrians on the sidewalks, creating one massive game-day celebration.

  Brynn loved the holiday feel, and the sense of kinship among strangers. She loved the playful rivalry between schools and the gran
d traditions that held true across generations. Most of all, she loved the nostalgic feeling that transported her back to her earliest college days, when the excitement had been new.

  That nostalgic feeling had never been as strong as it was today. Because Cade was here. Cade, who had been her first love. Her first college beau. Never mind that they had parted on such bad terms, or that she would never fully trust him again. Today was all about fun.

  She’d thought about him the entire time she’d performed her daily duties. Anticipation had coursed beneath her skin like an underground river, utterly un-stoppable.

  And now that she’d finished her work for the day and changed into a sleeveless red midriff blouse and short black skirt—admittedly sexier clothes than she usually dressed in—she strolled down the steps and through the yard toward the street-side festivities, trying not to look as if she was searching for anyone in particular. She, who had always enjoyed socializing with guests and neighbors, found herself steering clear of conversations or anyone who might slow her down.

  As she reached the main throng of people near the street and didn’t see Cade, she began to worry that he’d gone somewhere else for the day.

  Then a towering form stepped into her path, nearly causing her to collide with a broad male chest. “Looking for me?”

  Breathing in the subtle scent of forest and man that she’d always associated with Cade, she blamed the surge of her heart on his sudden appearance. Certainly it wasn’t her gladness to see him, or the fact that his black T-shirt stretched across his chest and showcased his dark, muscular arms to perfection, or that his jeans clung to his slim hips and athletic thighs in a blood-stirring way.

  She forced her attention upward while she struggled to find her voice. “Whatever gave you that idea?”

  “I wasn’t looking for you, either.” A wickedly irresistible smile curved his mouth and played in his light brown eyes.

  “Then I’m glad we didn’t find each other.” She felt her pleasure beaming from her like rays of the sun.