Enemy Waters

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Enemy Waters Page 18

by Justine Davis


  Chapter 27

  “There has to be something we can use against him. What about the affairs?”

  Nell shrugged. “There were dozens, I’m sure. Five that I know who they are.”

  “Any proof?”

  “Nothing I was able to bring with me,” she said, her tone wry but her voice steady.

  That he was touching her, idly—or seemingly idly—stroking the back of her hand with his fingers, helped. They sat across the polished table from each other, Cooper with a yellow legal pad in front of him for notes. Not the kind she would normally make, an orderly list, but rather a diagram of sorts, a starburst of lines and names and locations and events, all leading inward to where he’d written “Brown” in dark, jagged, almost Gothic-looking letters.

  She had thought, when she’d still been able to think at all where he was concerned, that he would be either a very casual or a very intense lover. It had turned out he was both. Casually able to laugh at the awkwardness of their first time together, relieving her embarrassment—and her fear that he’d regret this, that she was, in fact, inadequate—yet so intense once they’d found the rhythm that suited them that she’d felt seared to the core.

  And he assured her in a way words never could that Jeremy’s cool dismissal of her desirability in bed was born of his problems in that arena, not hers.

  “Besides,” she said, “in the circles he runs in, affairs are almost a given. A résumé enhancement, in fact. He’d pretend embarrassment, give a good show of contrition, but given his crazy loon of a wife, it would be, of course, understandable that he looked elsewhere.”

  He gave those last words such a scornful expression of disgust that it warmed her all over again.

  “Straight affairs?” he asked.

  “What?”

  “Is he gay?”

  She wondered for a moment if there was a compliment for her in there, that Jeremy would have to be gay not to find her desirable. Then she nearly laughed aloud at herself; after the afternoon they’d just spent in the master stateroom, she shouldn’t have any doubts left, or any need for compliments. Not from this man, who had practically worshipped her into oblivion for hours.

  “No, I don’t think so. I just think Jeremy’s only capacity for love is spent on himself. Something I was thankful for, since it meant he didn’t come to me very often.”

  “Good,” he said bluntly, and again she felt warmed. “All right. Something else then. If we can’t use sex, then money.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Any donations, or donors, who might be suspect? In any way?”

  Nell smothered a sigh and began to search her memory. They’d been at this for hours now. And all the while a good portion of her mind—and all of her sated yet eager for more body—was yearning to go back to bed. With him. For the next month or so.

  She’d worried, at first, that he’d find her too needy, too eager, too desperate. But that had been when she could still think at all, a situation he took care of the moment he’d had her naked and begun to explore every inch of her, in a way that made her feel as if she were some as-yet-undiscovered paradise.

  And the discovery was the most amazing thing she’d ever experienced.

  She yanked her mind back to the matter at hand, and to what he was saying.

  “—anything like that?”

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I was…daydreaming.”

  His gaze came up from the legal pad to her face. And whatever he read there made him smile in a very satisfied, very male way. But thankfully for her already overheated cheeks, he didn’t pursue it.

  “I was asking,” he said in a voice that made her feel as if he hadn’t had to pursue it because he knew exactly where her mind had wandered, “if there was anything he really seemed eager to hide. Activities, meetings he wanted to keep secret, phone calls, anything.”

  “He did hide almost everything from me. He would tell me he had a meeting, but never where or with who.”

  “What about all the fundraising functions?”

  “At public events, I was to be charming, gracious, the image of the perfect wife. The hair, the makeup, it all had to be perfect.” She ran a hand through her already tousled hair. “This is almost my natural color now. I hated being a blonde.”

  She waited, half-expecting him to say he wished she’d go back. He didn’t.

  “It suits you” was all he said.

  Mollified, she went on. “He spent a lot of money on a wardrobe picked out by a professional stylist, but if I ever wore something he didn’t like, it was my fault, not hers.”

  He made a gruff, disgusted sound that even further eased her mind. “What about at his office? He had one, didn’t he?”

  “I was never allowed at his office unless he summoned me.”

  “Summoned?”

  Her mouth twisted. “He never simply asked. It was always a summons. Not that it was very often. Maybe two or three times. I was too stupid to be of much use, and too unstable to be trusted with his precious business.”

  A snort of laughter burst from him, a sound that soothed her so much it was startling.

  “Why would he call you in at all, then?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “Usually there was a woman involved, a donor he thought would respond best to his facade of devoted husband.”

  “Devoted, huh?”

  “Of course. Why else would he tolerate my many flaws? That was always his subtext.”

  Cooper shook his head slowly. “Damn. Lucky you didn’t have kids. He probably would have completely warped them.”

  “I made sure that never happened, because he made it quite clear to me that if I ever got pregnant, an abortion would happen the next day. To the world, of course, he wanted children, he loved children and it was my fault we couldn’t have them.”

  For a moment he just looked at her, and then he asked the question she dreaded, the question she’d tried to answer so often herself.

  “Why did you stick it out as long as you did?”

  She let out a weary sigh. “I’ve spent months trying to figure that out. I was so weak, in the beginning. At first it was so good to feel safe again that I took his overcontrol as caring. When it got worse, I told myself that it was still better than that lost, alone feeling I had after losing Mom, then my father, in so short a time.”

  He seemed to hesitate, then asked, “What about your brother? Did he know?”

  “Not for a long time. Tris had his own life, and I told myself he didn’t need to be saddled with his little sister forever. But eventually he began to see the truth. He started telling me I deserved better, that I should get out. When I finally made the decision, he was with me every step of the way.”

  Her voice wobbled toward the end. And Cooper was there, his arms around her, lending her warmth and support.

  “I’m sorry, Nell,” he said against her hair.

  “I felt like I’d lost the last support I had in the world when he died,” she said.

  “But you kept going. I don’t know if you really were as weak as you thought back then. More likely just shell-shocked. But it doesn’t matter, because you’re sure as hell not weak now. You got away, you built a life, you did everything you had to do.”

  And even as she savored it, relaxed into his embrace, she felt the difference; Cooper lent his support, but he knew she didn’t need to be carried. He knew she wasn’t what Jeremy had said she was.

  He believed her. He believed in her.

  And with that realization she felt the first spark of real hope about the situation that had seemed so devoid of it. She lifted her head, looked up at him. And then, unable to resist, she kissed him.

  It was warm and comforting at first, but quickly flared into something more, something closer to the fiery heat they’d kindled in his bed. And when at last he pulled back, she wasn’t sure if the tiny sound of protest she heard came from her or him.

  “Careful,” he said, his voice a little thick. “We’ll end up back in bed
.”

  “Promise?” she said, a little startled at her own shamelessness. But there it was; for the first time in her adult life, she knew what it was to fully, truly, want a man. And she wanted this one. Again and again.

  Cooper didn’t wait for a second invitation. He picked her up and they were back in the master stateroom practically before she realized he was doing it. He began to undress her, and she sensed his tension building as he tried to go slow. She stilled his hands, and his gaze shot to her face. She could see he was wondering if she was changing her mind.

  Changing her mind. Such a simple thing, yet a thing she hadn’t been allowed for so long. Yet she knew down to her bones that even now, this man would stop if she asked him to.

  The knowledge only served to flood her with even more heat, need and desperate want. She reached out to tug his shirt free of his waistband, eager to slide her hands over him again. Before, he’d done most of the exploring; now, she thought with a fervor that thrilled her even as it surprised her, it was her turn.

  And when, clothes shed, they went down to the bed, still tossed from their first coming together, she began that journey. She worked her way over every inch of him, questing, learning, savoring every responsive twitch of muscle, every gasping breath when she stroked him here, kissed him there. As he had done to her, she learned him and she remembered.

  She had thought that maybe her imagination had colored those hours, or that maybe they’d only been so incredible in comparison to the casual coldness she’d been used to. But now she knew better. This was more than just warmth in place of chill, ask in place of assuming, or want in place of coercion. This was fire, fierce and demanding and all-consuming.

  When he rolled onto his back and pulled her over him, she realized he was giving her the lead. Or perhaps following her lead, letting her take the next step in her exploration. She nearly faltered, but then he reached up and cupped her breasts, catching and teasing her nipples between his fingers, and she cried out as her body clenched hard and low and deep.

  And then she had to have him inside her again, had to have him ease that emptiness that had never been truly gone until the first time he’d slid into her body. She straddled him hastily, urgency in her every move. He gasped when she reached for him, fingers curling around his rigid length. She wanted to prolong it, to caress him, drive him mad with the kind of need she was feeling, but her own craving was too strong, too vital, to be postponed.

  And when she took him home at last, she felt the triple shock of the sweet invasion, the convulsive tightening of his fingers on her hips as he arched to fill her, and the sweetest, hottest thing of all, the sound of her name breaking huskily from his lips, telling her one more time that she wasn’t alone.

  The soft whimper woke him. Nell lay with her back to him, curled up in a self-protective posture that got to him almost as much as the tiny sound she made did.

  Nightmares.

  He wasn’t surprised. In fact, he’d have been surprised if she didn’t have them.

  He rolled over and tucked his body around her, gently, wishing he could protect her as easily as he could warm her. But they’d talked the better part of two days now, and she was still insistent Jeremy Brown couldn’t be taken down. He realized she was speaking from years of dealing with him, years of intimidation and mental abuse, but he couldn’t deny the man was a very powerful target. Nell was convinced going against him would be like going up against the Mafia with a slingshot.

  And maybe she was right, he thought. Maybe they needed a new approach, a new idea. Maybe the traditional way of taking down a killer just wasn’t right in this case. Not when they couldn’t even prove he was a killer, not with the way he’d manipulated things into his favor, convincing people the only witness against him was unstable and untrustworthy long before it became an issue.

  She stirred, whimpering again, and this time he couldn’t stand it, he had to wake her out of whatever terror held her. He held her tighter, knowing she would likely awake with a start, then he whispered her name into the darkness.

  On the third try she did indeed jerk awake, giving a little cry that was like a knife to his gut.

  “Nell, Nell, it’s all right. You’re safe.”

  “Cooper?”

  “Right here,” he said, hugging her. And wishing that somehow he could make that always true.

  Always?

  The word echoed in his head, jolting him as much as that tiny cry had. His mind, as it usually did, skittered away from the thought of always. But somehow this time he had a suspicion it wouldn’t go away just because he wasn’t going to think about it.

  And he wasn’t, he told himself. He couldn’t. He had to make sure she had an always before doing any thinking about being there for it.

  “I’m sorry I woke you,” she said into the darkness.

  “Don’t be,” he said, hugging her against him.

  “Okay, I take it back. I’m not sorry.”

  She reached for him then, and that quickly the fire between them reignited and flared. He was a little startled; he’d thought after her nightmare she’d just want to be held, reassured.

  “Nell?”

  “Burn it away,” she whispered, and kissed him.

  He did his best to do just that.

  And much later, when dawn was approaching and they were sated for the moment—with anybody else Cooper would have been sated for days—they lay quiet, and he brought up the idea that had crystallized in his mind in the dark hours.

  “What would you like to happen to him?”

  She went still, as if she resented the intrusion of the man into the little, temporary paradise they had here. Truth be told, so did he, but that didn’t change the necessity of dealing with the bastard.

  Finally, with a sigh, she answered. “I’d like him to go down in flames. I’d like the world to know he didn’t kill Tris in a heroic effort to save me, but that he’s a stone-cold killer. I’d like him humiliated and publicly broken. Crass of me, isn’t it?”

  “No.”

  “Believe me, I know I’m not going to get that. He’s just too strong, too powerful.” She sighed. “But I’m tired of living every day in fear he’ll find me.”

  “Then the real question is,” he said, getting to it at last, “what would you settle for?”

  “What?”

  “Your ‘Mafia and a slingshot’ analogy,” he said. “They couldn’t get Al Capone for gangstering, so they took him down for tax evasion.”

  Her brow furrowed; he could see it now in the faint light coming in the porthole. “I get your point, but I don’t understand how it relates to Jeremy.”

  “Sometimes all you have to use are the weapons you already have.”

  “Profound, I’m sure,” she said, “but I still don’t get it. What weapons do we have?”

  He loved that she felt safe enough to throw a quip at him. But that was not where his head needed to be right now.

  “What we have,” he began, then paused before quashing his doubts and plunging on.

  “What we have is you.”

  Chapter 28

  She couldn’t believe this was happening. Couldn’t believe she was here, pacing like an animal in a cage.

  And the hotel room, elegant though it was, was still a cage.

  Vulnerable.

  Trapped.

  She felt like one of those goats they staked out in the jungle to lure in the lion. And the lion was close, she could almost feel him. She wanted to run, to get away, but Cooper was between her and the door. She’d told him she was tired of running, but she’d never expected to end up here, like this.

  She crossed to the window, looked out. Seattle was a beautiful city, but a city still. She much preferred the quiet peace she’d found across the sound, in the more rural places.

  When the knock came on the door she spun around, her heart hammering in her throat. But Cooper gave her no time to think about it, he just walked to the door and pulled it open.

  An
d welcomed Jeremy Brown into the room as if he’d been a long-lost friend.

  “Sorry about that,” Cooper said, gesturing at Jeremy’s swollen lip. “But I was pretty pissed.”

  Jeremy had only glanced at her, as if once he’d ascertained she was indeed here she was worth no further scrutiny. But it was long enough for her to see the all-too-familiar rage banked there in his eyes, and she knew just how furious he was at her.

  “She can have that effect,” Jeremy said, in that convivial, man-to-man voice she’d heard him use on particularly difficult donors. He was wearing the same black coat over a different suit and tie; even now Jeremy was perfectly turned out. Although he was shifting his shoulders to settle the overcoat, as if it didn’t fit quite right despite its obvious cost.

  “You didn’t have to lie to me,” Cooper said.

  “I apologize for that,” Jeremy said, with every appearance of gracious sincerity. “I simply didn’t want there to be any chance she might run again. If she doubted you, she might. Therefore you had to believe it yourself.”

  Cooper shrugged. “Yeah, I get it. Besides, the guy who’s paying the bills calls the shots, right?”

  “Speaking of that, the bonus has already been deposited in your account by transfer,” Jeremy said. “And as we agreed, no charges will be filed after our…misunderstanding.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Grant,” Jeremy said. “I admire that.”

  Cooper looked so flattered Nell felt a flutter of unease.

  “I earned it,” he said, jerking a thumb toward her without even looking at her. “She’s a bit of a pain.”

  He hit the perfect note of wry impatience. So perfect that that flutter of unease grew into a full-fledged nervousness in her stomach.

  “Oh, that I know too well,” Jeremy said. “That’s why I didn’t argue much about that bonus.”

 

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