by Francis Ray
He sucked in his breath as he let his eyes roam the length of her. Past the lush breasts to the narrow waist, the scrap of lace that lovingly cupped her womanhood, the graceful curve of legs. “You’re beautiful.”
Before she could answer, his mouth was on hers again, hotter, more demanding. Her fingers trembled as much as her body did as she tried to unbutton his shirt. The room titled crazily and she grabbed him around the neck. She realized he had picked her up.
Minutes later she felt the softness of his bed beneath her, the hardness of Gordon above her. Vaguely she registered the skylight over the bed. Her bra slipped off. His hot mouth greedily sucked her nipple. She moaned, then arched as his hand slipped inside her panties and found the tiny nub, gently flicking.
The twin pleasures had her whimpering, her hands fisted on the bed linen. “G-Gordon.”
“I’m going to make a feast of you.”
His tongue laved one breast, then the other, then started a downward path and didn’t stop until he found the essence of her. She couldn’t stop the scream that tore from her throat, nor the one that came later when he was inside her and they were both spinning out of control.
Gordon’s breath wheezed in and out of his lungs so hard, he sounded as if he had emphysema, but since Camille was lying beside him in all her naked splendor, her breathing only slightly less labored, he grinned.
He hadn’t died on her.
“Pleased with yourself, aren’t you?”
Since she had a satisfied look on her face, he figured he could be truthful. “Very. I didn’t conk out on you.”
Her eyes widened in distress. She scrambled to sit up. “You have heart problems?”
He took the trembling hand from his chest and kissed it. “Age problems?”
Her other hand slipped between his legs and felt his manhood leap in response, then begin to harden as she measured the length of him. “I think that worry can be eliminated.”
“Why don’t we make sure?” Quickly grabbing another condom, he sheathed himself then pulled her down on top of him. He watched her eyes close in pleasure as he slipped inside her, then open as she rode him for all he was worth.
A tray between them, Camille in Gordon’s short terrycloth robe, Gordon in his slacks, they finished off a bowl of goulash and breadsticks. “You could spend the night, you know.”
Camille’s hand paused as she picked up her wine. “I don’t spend the night with men.”
He hadn’t thought it would be easy, and tried not to lose his temper at the thought of her being with another man. “Your things are already here.”
She sat her glass down with a sharp clink and came off the bed. His oversized robe slipped off her shoulder. “Don’t spoil it, Gordon. I come and go as I please.”
The abrupt tone had him reassessing the situation. He rose from the bed and stood in front of her. “Who made you so scared of commitment?”
Her kiss-softened lips firmed. “Thanks for dinner. I can get a cab home.”
His hands on her arms stopped her as she started past him. He ignored the sharp glint in her eyes. “I want to know you better. I’m not probing to be nosy. I care. If I step on a sensitive area, tell me to back off.”
“Back off,” she said immediately.
“Not if we intend for this to work,” he said softly.
Her eyes went from anger to wary in an instant. “We’re just enjoying each other.”
It was more than that to him, felt it was more to her as well, but instinctively knew if he pushed he’d lose. He kissed her bare shoulder, pulled his robe back up, then picked up the tray. “I’ll take care of this while you get dressed.”
She wanted to keep it simple. They could enjoy each other’s bodies without invading each other’s souls. Once you opened up, the other person could hurt you. She’d learned that painful lesson the hard way; she just couldn’t reconcile that knowledge with the patient demand in Gordon’s eyes. She shoved her hands into the pockets of the robe. “My husband and I married out of lust. We didn’t know it at the time, but as our jobs demanded more of us, we quickly learned. He wanted me there for him and I couldn’t be.
“When the lust faded there was nothing left. We each blamed the other for the marriage falling apart. Our parents were old friends and they kept pressuring us to work it out.” Impatiently she dragged one hand out of the pocket and shoved it through her hair. “When my apartment was broken into, we were still married. He wasn’t there, but he walked after that.”
Gordon put the tray back on the bed, and went to her. “So you don’t trust lust or love?”
“I don’t want any emotional entanglements. If you can’t agree to that, we should end it right now.”
His finger touched the base of her throat where her pulse beat erratically, felt her swallow. Easiest wasn’t always the best. He went back and picked up the tray. “You free tomorrow night for a movie?”
“Yes,” she answered, confused.
“Good. We’ll decide on the movie on the way to your place,” he said as he carried the tray from the room.
Camille tugged the tie on Gordon’s robe loose and reached for her panties. It was going to be all right. He wasn’t going to demand more of her than she could give. She wasn’t going to go through those feelings of inadequacy and of being a failure again for anyone.
“Madison, there’s a Ms. Jacobs to see you,” Traci said.
Madison’s grip on the phone tightened. Automatically she glanced around the office. The baby furniture was pushed against the back wall. Manda was asleep in her crib, the blanket Madison’s mother had crocheted for her was tucked around her little shoulders. “Please have her come in.” Hanging up the phone, she stepped around her desk.
Camille entered with a smile. She wore a long lavender one-button jacket over a crisp white blouse and lavender midcalf skirt. She extended her slim hand. “I went by your house and your maid said you had returned to work. Thank you for seeing me.”
“Did I have a choice?” Madison said, slipping her hand into the pockets of her navy pinstriped trousers.
Camille tilted her head to one side. “I remember us as getting along better the last time we met.”
“That came out badly.” A lot of things had come out badly since The Incident. Madison waved the social worker to the chair in front of her desk. “I’m just a little nervous on how you’ll react to my bringing Manda to the office.”
Instead of taking the seat, Camille walked over to the crib. “How is Manda adjusting?”
“Beautifully.” Hands on the crib, Madison stared down at the sleeping child. Her mouth softened. “This is the second week. I come in around ten each day after she’s had her bath and playtime. She has her afternoon nap and feeding as usual. Occasionally in the evenings she wants to wait and eat with Zachary.”
“Mr. Holman is still assisting you?
Madison felt her heart give a quick and familiar thump in her chest. “Yes.”
Camille placed her hand on the rail of the crib. “That must be a big help since you’ve returned to work.”
“I can take care of Manda by myself.” Aware her tone had become defensive and that she was handling the interview all wrong, she strove for control. She’d known that kiss would lead to trouble. “How was your trip?”
Camille stiffened. “How did you know I had gone out of town?”
“Gordon mentioned it.”
Camille drew her straight shoulders back farther. “I hope you realize my dating Mr. Armstrong has no bearing on this case.”
Madison’s eyes narrowed. The woman didn’t trust anyone. “Why should it? You’ve already gotten a statement from Gordon.”
“Yes, I have,” Camille said, her body losing its rigidness. “If everything continues to go well, I plan to close the case by the end of next month.”
“Why the delay?” Madison questioned, uneasiness creeping over her.
“To ensure that this placement is best for Manda,” Camille answered calmly.
Madison didn’t believe her. “Or to try and find an excuse to take her from me?”
Camille’s eyes widened at the accusation. “That is not my intention.”
“You could have fooled me.” Brisk, agitated steps carried Madison behind her desk. “If there is nothing else, Manda should wake up soon and I want to finish the paperwork on my desk before she does.”
“Would you like to hear what my report of today will say?” As if aware she wouldn’t get an answer, Camille continued. “It will say that you have done an excellent job in caring for Manda. Your office is cluttered with things she needs to make her life, not yours, easier. It’s obvious you’ve taken safety precautions to bring her here. Although you have a maid and could easily hire a nanny, you continue to care for her yourself.”
Madison sat down heavily in her chair. “I was ready to pull your hair out by the roots.”
“So I gathered,” Camille said, seemingly not the least bit disturbed by the threat. “I can tell you care for Manda. But it could have been different. Would you want me to be less diligent?”
“No.”
Satisfied, Camille nodded. “Then if I promise to stay out of your way, I’d like to wait until Manda is awake.”
Madison’s eyes cooled. “You almost had me fooled. You never give up, do you?”
“The report wouldn’t be complete otherwise.”
“And, of course, trying to catch people off-guard is just part of your job.” Madison retorted.
A shadow moved across Camille’s face. “I want what’s best for Manda.”
“So you say. Forgive me if I’m not particularly fond of how you gather your information.” Rising, Madison picked up Manda, who had awakened and was grinning. “By all means, get the information you need for your report. Manda and I have storytime after lunch—just the two of us. I’m sure you’ll understand if I don’t ask you to stay.”
Tossed out again, Camille thought, shoving the strap of her purse over her shoulder. She wasn’t going to let it bother her. So what if she’d hoped she and Madison could be friends? She knew better. She was the enemy. Untrusted. Unwanted.
“Camille?”
Camille didn’t want to turn around, but she wasn’t given a choice when Gordon stepped in front of her. After a week of hot and heavy sex that showed no sign of abating, the sight of him gave her a sharp punch, quickly followed by a strong desire to rip his clothes off. “Hello, Gordon.”
He was surprised by her frigid tone. The last time he’d spoken to her she’d been draped in nothing but moonlight and a thin sheen of perspiration from their lovemaking. “Were you coming to see me?”
“I just left Ms. Reed’s office. If you’ll excuse me, I have another appointment.”
He took her arm and steered her into an empty conference room. “So what happened between you and Madison?”
“That’s confidential.”
He said one very explicit word. He whirled away, then back and kept coming until his body was aligned with hers, her hips pressed against the edge of the oval conference table. “Madison loves Manda. Surely you can see that.”
Her eyes went wide at the implications of his words. He might make love to her, but he didn’t trust her or her judgment. “Get away from me.”
The misery in her voice pulled at him. “Camille.” At the moment there was nothing he wanted more than take her in his arms, but he knew from the moisture shining in her eyes he’d have a fight on his hands. “Please talk to me.”
“I’m not defending myself to you or anyone else ever again.” Shoving him aside, she left.
Gordon didn’t even hesitate. He headed to Madison’s office. If he couldn’t get answers from one place, he’d try another. He passed Madison’s assistant with a brief nod, then knocked on her door. There was no answer.
He glanced at Traci. “Is she in there?”
“Yes, sir, but she’s probably reading Manda a story and she doesn’t like to be disturbed,” Traci answered, apprehension in her voice.
Any other time he might adhere to her wishes, but not after seeing the sheen of tears in Camille’s eyes. He knocked again. “Madison?”
“Enter at your own risk,” she called out, her voice steely.
“I think I’ll take lunch now.” Traci quickly grabbed her purse and left.
Gordon was made of tougher stuff. He opened the door. Madison was in the rocking chair with Manda in her lap, and an oversized picture book in her hands.
“What happened between you and Camille?”
Madison kept rocking. “I don’t like your taste in lady friends.”
That much was obvious. “She cares deeply about the children in her caseload.”
“That’s your opinion.”
He stared down at Madison, the tight set of her lips, the misery in her eyes. “She left here almost in tears. That doesn’t sound like a woman who doesn’t care.”
“Tears are the oldest weapon in the book to soften up a man,” Madison said.
Gordon squatted down and placed his hands on the arms of the rocker to stop its motion. “Then what’s the reason for yours?”
She shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about it and if you push I might say something we both will regret.”
“You want me to call Zachary?”
Her eyes widened in alarm. “Zachary?”
Gordon couldn’t tell where her wariness was coming from. “He left his number yesterday when he delivered the rocking chair.”
“You said it was a gift.”
Gordon frowned. “It was a gift. From Zachary.”
She came to her feet, causing him to stand and step back. Going to the double window, she stared out.
“Did something happen between you two?”
“No,” she snapped, then took a deep, calming breath. “I’ve got the guests for the shows almost lined up. You want to go over it tomorrow?”
“In other words, mind my own business.”
“Please.” Her voice wavered.
Gordon sighed. “I’m calling for your car and sending you home. You’re not going to get much more done today.”
“I’ll be in tomorrow.”
He started to tell her not to bother, then realized it might be best for her to come back after a good cry. “See you tomorrow, then.” Leaving her office, he stopped at Traci’s desk and called the car service. He knew the number by heart. The station used the same service for all their executives and guests. For his next call he waited until he was in his office with the door closed. The phone was answered on the second ring
“Zachary Holman.”
“Zachary, it’s Gordon.”
“Are Madison and Manda all right?” he questioned sharply.
“Manda seems fine. I’m not so sure about Madison,” Gordon said, sitting on the edge of the desk.
“Why? What’s the matter?” Zachary asked anxiously.
“I was hoping you could tell me,” Gordon said. “She’s hasn’t been the same since she came back to work from the weekend.”
There was a brief moment of silence before Zachary, his tone guarded, said, “Maybe she’s just having trouble just getting back into the routine.”
Gordon tapped his gold pen on his desk. “It’s more than that. Camille was here and both of them ended their meeting upset.”
“What happened? Did she upset Madison?” Zachary’s voice took on a hard edge.
Gordon had to make himself not take offense. The pen in his hand stilled. “I don’t know who did what. Neither is talking.”
His tone strained, Zachary said, “I can’t help you.”
“I thought you cared about her.”
“Sometimes that’s not enough,” Zachary said quietly.
Gordon thought about Camille. “Don’t I know it.”
“Just take care of her.”
“I’ll do my best.” Gordon hung up the phone, no closer to learning what was going on now than he had been thirty minutes ago. Once he had been the best inves
tigative reporter in the business. He was definitely losing his touch.
Picking up the phone again, he dialed Camille’s cell number, then her work number, and got her answering machine or voice mail each time. She could be busy, but he had a bad feeling that their relationship had just hit another bumpy patch.
TWENTY-SEVEN
HELEN COULDN’T BELIEVE HER good fortune. She could have jumped with glee when she saw Madison, head down, coming down the hall toward her. She wasn’t smiling and playing with the brat as she usually was. If the scuttlebutt around the station was true, Madison wasn’t too happy these days … except with the kid. That wouldn’t be for long, though. Helen planned to see to that.
For more nights than she’d cared to remember, she and Edward had sat outside Madison’s home, and for what? One lousy picture of her hugging the carpenter. They probably were going at it hot and heavy after they went inside. The cowardly Edward hadn’t wanted to sneak around to the back to try and get another shot, but Helen wasn’t giving up. She’d go back by herself if necessary.
Since she had gone to Madison’s house after the funeral, the guards at the gate remembered her and always let her in. No way she wasn’t going to see this through. She wanted Madison’s job and she was getting it.
“Leaving early, Madison?” Helen asked sweetly.
Madison’s head came up and she stared straight into Helen’s smirking face. Of all the people she could have run into while she was upset, Madison couldn’t think of a worse one. “Yes.”
Madison knew her shaky voice had betrayed her when Helen’s smirk grew.
“Getting settled back in all right?”
“Yes. If you’ll excuse me, Gordon called the car service and the driver is probably waiting,” Madison said, clutching Manda to her.
The smirk vanished. “I can’t even get the station to pay for a lousy refrigerator in my office and you have a driver at your beck and call.”
Madison had no intention of pointing out that it was in her contract or that she hadn’t used the service before Manda or that Helen was only two doors down from the lounge. “Excuse me.”
