by Francis Ray
Still standing, she picked up the pitcher of sunflowers and sat them on the far corner of the coffee table. “Would you like something to drink?”
“No thanks. I won’t be here that long.” Setting the leather case on the table he opened it, then looked up expectantly at her. “Could you sit over here? I’d like to show you something.”
Camille sat and clasped her hands, then hooked her foot behind her lower leg. Perhaps that way she wouldn’t be tempted to touch him, her body wouldn’t remember his.
He handed her several sheets of paper. “It occurred to me that many of your children might think no one cares about them and I started thinking about what I could do to help them realize they were wrong. So I made some phone calls.”
“These are pledge cards from athletes,” she said, flipping through the papers.
“Money, time, personal appearances. They’re at your disposal to use for visits or for personal appearances to help raise funds. This way you can utilize them the best way you want. I figured you’d know the agencies that could utilize the pledges most effectively.” He reached in his coat pocket and pulled out a check. “The kids wouldn’t want to see me, but this will help buy school supplies or whatever. I also asked the guys to work on their wives and girlfriends to volunteer.”
Stunned, she looked from the check back to Gordon. “I don’t know what to say.”
He clicked the case closed, then stood. “There’s nothing to say. You have a heavy load in more ways than one. Hopefully this will help.”
She came to her feet with the papers clutched in her hands. “It will. In so many ways.”
“Good. Good night.” He started for the door.
“Is … Is that all you wanted to say?” she asked before she could stop herself.
He stopped and turned, his face expressionless. “I can’t think of anything else.”
Misery almost buckled her knees. Her eyes shut. It was over.
“Was there something you wanted to say?”
Her eyes flashed open. What she saw in his eyes caused her heart to beat, her pulse to pound: naked desire. “Don’t go.”
In seconds she was in his arms, his lips on hers. “You were going to leave me,” she accused.
His head lifted. “If you felt a tenth of the misery I felt last night, I’m not sorry. You know why? Because then you’ll have a fair idea of how much you mean to me.”
Her knees shook. “Gordon.”
“I’ll say it again. I want all of you, not just your body.”
Even as Camille’s mind shied away from such a commitment, her body strained to get closer. Her lips brushed across his. “Can’t we just enjoy each other?”
His arms unfolded from around her body. “That’s not my way. I’ve never done anything by halves and I don’t plan to start now.”
Camille felt like screaming. “Why does it have to be your way or no way?”
“Probably because I’m a selfish bastard or because I love you. Take your pick.”
Camille’s eyes widened; she staggered back until the back of her legs came up against the couch. Her heart raced. She plopped down. “You—you shouldn’t joke like that.”
“Do I look like I’m joking?”
He didn’t. His eyes were fierce, determined. She put her face in her hands. “I don’t want this.”
“You’re lying.” Her head came up at the accusation. “You’re scared spitless, but you care for me, too.”
She surged upward. “Caring isn’t loving. You have to have more to make it work. I know.”
“You got it wrong with your husband and now you’re afraid to try again.”
“You’re damn right.” She shook her head fiercely. “I won’t go through that again. The accusations. The arguments. I won’t apologize for what I do or who I am.”
He took a step closer. “I said I was wrong. Why can’t you get over it?”
“Because it’s the same thing my ex-husband said at first, but he changed his mind soon enough when trouble came.” Camille drew in a shaky breath. “I—I didn’t tell you everything. When Duncan, the man who broke into our apartment, got out of jail, he kidnapped his two girls, ages seven and five. There was a tragic traffic accident. Duncan and the youngest daughter, Laurie, were killed instantly. Paula was paralyzed from the neck down. Everyone felt sorry for the family. Someone had to bear the brunt of the tragedy and it fell on me, the case investigator.”
Gordon kept silent with an effort.
“Everyone, including my husband, friends, and family, began acting differently toward me. A few told me that perhaps I had been too diligent, perhaps I should have left the children in the home. Gloria, Duncan’s wife, was the most vocal and bitter of all. Although she had instigated the investigation of sexual abuse of her daughters by her husband, she said she hadn’t meant it the way it came out. I had taken her words out of context.
“She blamed the department for her husband and child’s death, the lifetime of misery the other child would endure. Newspapers had a field day at my expense. My ex wanted a future in politics. I became a liability instead of an asset. He filed for divorce. I left D.C. and came back to Dallas. Mother accepted me because she knew I needed a refuge, but deep down I think she feels it was my fault.”
“It wasn’t.” He went to her.
She bit her lower lip. “Sometimes I think maybe they were right.”
His hands circled her upper forearms. “No. Don’t do that to yourself. You weren’t to blame.”
She lifted pain-filled eyes to his. “You weren’t there.”
“I didn’t have to be. You care too much not to be sure. If there was the slightest doubt in your mind, you had to act. To do otherwise would have been negligent. If anything, you care too much. That’s why you were upset the other day leaving Madison’s office. You feel too much.”
He understood her better than anyone. “You could hurt me.”
“You could hurt me. But what we feel for each other far outweighs the risk.” He brushed his lips across her mouth.
She quivered. “That’s not fair.”
His hands swept under her blouse and closed over her breasts. “Should I stop?”
She stared into his steady eyes and saw what she had thought impossible. Unconditional love. Scary as hell, but so was the alternative. Her hands went to his belt. “You do and you’re a dead man.”
Madison watched the sun push back the night. She doubted if she’d slept more than a couple of hours. Dressed, she opened the door to the bedroom and stared at the reason. Zachary lay sprawled on the sofa, one arm behind his head, the other on his bare, muscular chest. His jeans were unsnapped. His gaze captured hers and she felt breathless, lightheaded. Needy.
“Good morning.” He came to a sitting position with the elegance of a giant cat. “You’re up early.”
She moistened her dry lips. “So are you.”
He pulled his shirt off the arm of the couch, but made no move to put it on. “You want me to go get you breakfast?”
They’d purchased Manda food, but had decided they didn’t want to bother with cooking and cleaning up for themselves. “I just want some juice.” Dragging her gaze away from his hand lazily rubbing his flat stomach, she hurried to the kitchen.
She sensed him behind her before she heard him. Her skin prickled. Trying to ignore him and her body’s reaction to him, she opened the refrigerator for the carton of juice. She turned. He stood in front of her with a plastic cup. Helplessly her gaze traveled over his wide chest and broad shoulders, then lifted unerringly to his mouth. She wanted—
Spinning around, she struggled for composure. Opening the refrigerator, she put the juice away with a hand that trembled. “I’ve decided I don’t want any.” Giving him a wide berth, she went back to her room and closed the door. She didn’t come out again until Manda was awake and ready for her breakfast. Madison wasn’t taking any more chances of being alone with Zachary until whatever it was that caused her to act so strongly toward
him was under control.
They planned to take the last flight out of Amarillo Friday night. Velma had been transferred back to the nursing home that afternoon. While Madison and Manda visited, Zachary had taken the boxes Augusta had helped him pack and shipped them to Madison’s house.
When he’d arrived back at the nursing home, he visited the administrator to express his displeasure that a stranger had been able to walk into Miss Taylor’s room. He was assured that this was an unusual occurrence, that they wanted their residents and staff to feel safe, that’s why they had surveillance cameras in each entrance and in the parking lot.
“How soon before I can view the disc?” Zachary asked.
Picking up the phone, the administrator called the security firm. “Wednesday by the latest. They have to run through all of it, then find the section you need,” he answered, hanging up the phone. “I’ll see that the police receive a copy.”
“You have Ms. Reed’s address. I’d consider it a big favor if you could send her a copy,” Zachary requested. “Maybe she can identify the man.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
Shaking the man’s hand, Zachary left and located Madison, Manda, and Miss Taylor in the lounge. Velma had wanted to show off Manda and introduce her guardian. Manda had taken all the strange faces and attention in stride. Madison signed autograph after autograph with a smile. The only time she’d tensed up was when she looked at him. He took a seat in the back of the room. His time was coming. She wasn’t going to be able to avoid him when they reached her house. He planned to make sure of that.
Tense, and bone-tired, Madison unlocked the front door to her house a little after eleven that night. Zachary stepped around her and continued down the hall with Manda. She’d been sleep since they’d left the nursing home.
Her nerves stretched almost to the breaking point, Madison closed the door and started for the bedroom. She met Zachary on the way.
“I’ll bring the rest of your things.”
“Thank your.” In the bedroom, she undressed Manda, washed her face and hands, then put her in a fresh gown. Zachary had come in while she was changing Manda, but he had gone back out. She was glad he had. She wished he’d leave. She was too aware of him.
When she could think of nothing else to keep her from facing him, she wiped her sweaty palms on her slacks and went to the den. He was sitting on the sofa, his arm on the back of the seat, his gaze tracking her every movement.
Her stomach felt jittery. “Thank you, Zachary. I—”
“Sit down, Madison.”
“What?” He’d never used that sharp tone with her before.
His arm came off the back of the chair. “I said sit down.”
Her brow lifted. “I won’t be talked—”
“It’s about Wes.”
She shoved her hand through her hair. “I don’t want to talk about it tonight.”
His gaze locked on her and he came to his feet. “Too bad, but I’ve waited long enough to tell you.”
If he wanted a fight, he had come to the right place. “What could possibly be so important that it can’t wait until tomorrow?”
“Wes was my half-brother.”
THIRTY
MADISON SANK IN THE nearest seat. “Your half-brother? But that … that would mean …”
“A.J. Reed is my father.”
“Your father?” Madison was aware that she was parroting, but she wasn’t able to help herself. “Your mother …”
His mouth flattered into a hard line. “My mother loved the bastard. She believed every lie he told her, but he married Vanessa. Vanessa’s family had social connections if little money. She had more to offer than the daughter of a laborer.”
“D-did Wes know?”
“He knew. We bloodied each other’s noses over it more than once.” He paced away than back. “I found out who my father was when I was in the tenth grade. Seeing Wes in his new Corvette while I walked, his expensive clothes, his big house, put me in a rage. I took it upon myself to tell him after school when I caught him alone. We fought like two wild dogs.
“I came home bloody and angry at the world, at what I thought I had been deprived of. I told my mama how I felt, and hurt her. For the first time my stepfather looked at me with something other than pride.”
“You were hurting.” She defended him. Years later he continued to hurt. “They understood.”
“It doesn’t excuse how I acted.” He walked to the French doors and stared out at the night. “I took it upon myself to introduce myself to A.J. You know what he said?”
Madison’s stomach knotted. “Please, don’t.”
“He said he had a lot of bastards, but he only had one son.”
Nausea rose in her throat. Fury propelled her across the room. “You make a hundred A.J. Reeds. Don’t you dare let his stupidity cause you to feel less.”
He almost smiled. “I don’t. Through the years I learned I got the best of the deal.” He brushed her hair back from her face. “I only envied Wes one thing.”
Her breath caught.
His hands came to rest gently on her shoulders to keep her from retreating. “He was my brother and I loved him, and I mourn him, but I can’t stop thinking about you.”
A odd mixture of fear and anticipation swept through her. “You shouldn’t—talk that way.”
His smile was heartbreakingly sad. “You might as well tell me to stop breathing.”
“We can’t do this,” she told him, her body trembling.
“Too late. Much too late.” With infinite tenderness he pulled her into his arms, his head lowering until their mouths met, their breaths mingled, their hearts touched.
She couldn’t seem to think clearly. Everything seemed centered on the kiss. She’d never been kissed as if she was all that a man desired, as if she was all that mattered to him, as if all his attention was focused on pleasing her.
His hand slipped beneath her blouse to close over her breast. Her breath caught, then snagged as his thumb and finger closed around her nipple. She moaned his name. “Z-Zachary.”
His hot mouth took the place of his hand. He suckled. With a little whimper, Madison’s knees buckled. Lifting her in his arms, he lowered her to the sofa then came down on top of her, his mouth taking hers again.
She wanted to feel his skin. She had to. Impatiently she unbuttoned his shirt and shoved the fabric aside. She sighed in pleasure as she ran her hands across his muscular flesh. “You feel so good.”
He nipped her bottom lip. “Not as good as you feel or taste.”
She licked his nipple like a hungry cat licking cream. He groaned, then made short work of the rest of her clothes, then his own. He took care of protecting her, then came back to her. His questing fingers found her hot and wet.
“I love you, Madison,” he told her as he entered.
She tried to speak, but words wouldn’t come. She’d never felt such exquisite sensations, never wanted to give as she did now. She wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck, and gave herself to him body and soul. He gave back, again and again.
“Come with me.”
She was helpless not to. The husky, whispered words in her ear lured her. His moans of pleasure doubled hers. His muscled hardness fascinated her. His big body pressed against her felt deliciously decadent. His callused hands sent spirals of heat racing through her.
“You’re all that I desire.”
He pleased her, undid her, made her feel reborn. “Zachary.”
His hands gripped her hips, his powerful body surged into her moist heat again and again. The pleasure mounted. All Madison could do was hold on and follow.
Instinctively she wrapped her legs around him, caught the rhythm, let the sensations sweep her up, then she was falling. With a hoarse shout of gratification, he followed.
Madison roused to feel to the hardness and warmth of Zachary’s body next to hers. Resistance didn’t enter her mind as he rolled on top of her and entered her. His eye
s watched desire sweep through her, over her. The loving was slower, but just as passionate. Madison felt her body tighten, then she went over, secure in Zachary’s arms.
She lost count of the number of times they loved each other. If he was insatiable, then she was more so. It was as if she were in a thirsty wasteland and Zachary was her rain.
The next time she awoke it was morning and she was in her bed alone. Sitting up, the sheet dropped from over her bare breasts. The crib was empty. A glance at the bedside clock told her why. Eight-thirty.
Grabbing a robe from the closet, she felt the weight of the gold bracelet from Tiffany’s on her arm. Zachary had put it back on last night. It was the only thing she had worn during the night. Thoroughly pleased with herself and him, she slipped on the robe and went to find Zachary and Manda.
They were in the den. Zachary’s back was propped against the sofa, his knees raised to support Manda’s back as he clasped her hands and played pat-a-cake. Love filled her heart for both of them.
He glanced up and smiled. “Good morning, beautiful.”
Smiling, she knelt on the floor by them. Her hair was a wreck. She had no makeup on, but he thought she was beautiful. With Zachary, she felt beautiful. She kissed them both. “Good morning.”
“Ma-da.” Manda crawled from one to the other.
Zachary’s arm curved around them. “We tried to let you sleep. You must be tired.”
With an impish smile on her face, she looked up at him. “I wonder why?” She grinned when he blushed.
“Later I’m going to have to make you pay for that.” He kissed her, then stood and helped her to her feet. “Now I have to go to work.”
Disappointment slumped her shoulders, but she managed a smile. “You have time for breakfast?”
“Manda and I had a bowl of cooked cereal. Is it all right if I take a shower here? That will save time.”
“If Manda was asleep, I’d scrub your back,” she teased, enjoying herself immensely.
His eyes darkened. “I’m going to remember that.”
