Her throat tightened. I wanted the same for you.
He closed his eyes, opened them a moment later. I just thank God I didnt get you pregnant, he practically growled, and her heart slammed against her ribs. I used to worry about that, worry that one day youd call and tell me you were carrying my child.
The pain crashed in from all directions, sharp and hard and punishing. Shock winded her. She heard the horror in Erics voice, the relief that his fears had not come to pass.
Would that have been so bad? part of her ached to ask, but her voice refused to honor the question.
I didnt call, she whispered. Hadnt known how to.
A bittersweet smile lit Erics face. And I didnt think it was fair to call you, no matter how badly I wanted to, not while I was married to Becky.
You never lied about your intentions to marry her, Leigh reminded him. Eric had told her all about the fatherless little girl whod moved in next door when he was five years old, the friendship that had turned from puppy love to the first blush of romance. Leigh had listened quietly, her heart silently breaking, wondering if Becky realized she was the luckiest girl in the world. You never pretended we were anything more than friends.
Erics mouth tightened. And in doing so I lied to everyone, he said, and the words sounded torn from somewhere deep inside him, somewhere dark and anguished. I never realized that what Becky and I shared wasnt close to what it took to make a marriage work.
Leigh couldnt help it. The need to touch, to comfort, was too great. With a soft smile she curved her free hand around the back of his and gently squeezed. Im sorry.
In so many ways, for so many things, decisions and choices, secrets and lies, what lay behind and what still lay ahead.
Eric pulled his hand from hers and lifted it to her face. I missed you, Leigh. All these years, your smile and your intelligence, your courage and your determinationbut I couldnt find you.
The fact that hed looked did cruel things to her heart.
It ripped me up thinking about you gone from my life forever, married to someone else.
On a deep breath, she met Erics gaze. That didnt happen. Couldnt have, not when she looked at her son every morning and saw the man who still dominated entirely too much of her heart.
Im sorry, Eric said.
Leigh didnt hesitate. Im not.
He moved so suddenly she didnt have time to brace herself, to turn away. Before her heart could beat, his mouth was skimming hers. Im glad.
Something inside her shifted. Eric
I know, he said, pulling back before she could pull him closer. Slow. His smile had more of a look of pain than of pleasure, but he shifted on the chaise, lifting a leg from the side and easing back so that he lay stretched out beside her. Then he extended his arm and held out his hand.
Lie with me, he said. I promise I wont kiss you again unless you want me to. Unless you ask.
Her heart was beating so crazily she was sure he could hear the erratic rhythm. You sound pretty sure of yourself, she commented, desperately fighting the desire to forget about consequences and accept his invitation, to feel the hard contours of his body hugging hers.
A faint light glowed in his eyes. Some risks are worth the reward.
Its late, Eric. I should go.
Just a few minutes.
Leigh was a smart woman. She knew better than to make memories with this man. She knew better than to open herself up to the hurt all over again. But at that moment, all the knowledge in the world couldnt have stopped her from taking his hand and sinking against his body, feeling her legs brush his, her breasts pressed to his abdomen, her head against his chest, where his heart thrummed as crazily as hers.
Memories were a mistake, she told herself as she sighed in contentment. Memories were dangerous.
Leigh?
The raspy tenor of his voice drifted through her, prompting her to tilt her face toward his, where she found him watching her, just watching, eyes dark and focused as he ran his fingers through her hair.
I wont kiss you again unless you want me to.
She wanted. God help her, that was the problem. When it came to Eric Jones, shed always, always wanted.
Nine
L eigh blinked against the wash of morning light and felt her heart start to pound. Memoriesor was it a dream?tumbled hard and fast, of Erics mouth on hers, him picking her up and carrying her inside, putting her down on his big, big bed. Hed promised to take it slow, and as shed lain pressed to his body, feeling his hand skim along her side, shed imagined what it would be like to go slow with Eric. To stretch every sensation to the breaking point. To turn one moment into forever.
Startled, she sat abruptly.
But this was not her bed.
It was Erics.
Uneasy, she slid from sheets that carried the scent of sandalwood he always wore, and quickly found her shoes.
She could not have slept in Eric Joness bed. She could not have spent the night at his brownstone. She could not have made more memories with this man, no matter how badly her heart and body burned to do just that.
The aroma of coffee escorted her down the hall. She wanted to slip away without saying a word to him, but knew that was the cowards way out. She would politely thank him for his kindness the night before, then tell him she had to leave, go home and shower, get back downtown for a few important meetings.
In the kitchen she found a mug sitting in front of an automatic coffeepot and a carton of eggs on the counter. A slab of bacon sat on a chopping block, adjacent to an onion and two tomatoes. A frying pan waited on the stove.
Uncertainty pushed a little deeper, no longer because shed slept in Erics bed, but because of the unnatural stillness to the apartment. Eric? She turned toward the breakfast area, where the newspaper lay on the glass top table where the guys had played cards the night before. Eric?
Nothing.
Her heart started to pound, well-honed instincts kicking hard. Clearly, Eric had been here not that long ago, in the middle of preparing breakfast.
But now he was gone.
She saw it then, the overturned chair and the stain of coffee against the near wall, the shattered remains of a mug on the hardwood floor. Oh, God, she murmured, barely able to breathe. She moved forward anyway, saw the brown envelope on the side of the table, the picture sitting on top. Of her. And Eric. Kissing passionately in the front of the deserted old diner, just a few doors down from the Blue Note, their bodies so intertwined they could have been making love.
And she knew. She knew why Eric had thrown his coffee against the wall and dumped over a chair. She knew why he didnt answer her call.
With shaking hands, Leigh grabbed a napkin, picked up the picture, turned it over.
A picture is worth a thousand words.
Maybe now youre ready to talk.
Leigh stepped into the hotel elevator and jabbed the button for the fifteenth floor, hoping against hope she wasnt too late. M. H. Cantrell had gone too far this time. The vile reporter w
hod been hounding Eric for a story had left his hotel on the back of the photo. He thought that by threatening Eric he could secure the interview he sought.
He was wrong.
Eric wasnt about to talk to the media, especially the slimeball leading the charge linking him to genetic engineering. Eric Jones was too smart to risk having his words twisted into something that could be used against him in a court of law. He wasnt a man to be manipulated. He wasnt a man to be bullied.
Fool that he was, M. H. Cantrell had chosen to play his game with the wrong person.
The elevator stopped on the tenth floor, where two laughing teenage girls stepped inside and pressed the eleven button, forcing Leigh to bite down on the inside of her mouth.
So help me God, Leigh heard the second she finally reached her destination. If that picture shows up in one paper just one you will pay.
I hardly think youre in a position to threaten me, Jones.
A hard, frustrated sound reverberated through the hotel corridor. You have no idea what position Im in, Cantrell. You have no idea what Ill do when backed into a corner. This is my life youre playing games with
Leigh saw Eric shove against the partially open door separating him from the wiry reporter and felt her heart flat out stop. Eric, dont!
He stopped abruptly, swung toward her. This doesnt concern you, Leigh.
Hes not worth it, she said, hurrying toward them. He cant hurt us.
Cantrell started to laugh. Well, isnt this cozy? Lady Barracuda riding in to save the day.
Leigh saw Erics body gather force and quickly inserted herself in the doorway between the two men. She turned to Eric, put her hands on his chest. This isnt the answer.
His gaze hardened. Neither is letting this slimebag ruin your reputation.
A picture of me kissing you is hardly going to ruin my reputation, she said with a wry smile, then turned toward Cantrell. But coercion and bribery may well ruin yours.
The smug man blanched. Bribery?
You can hand over the negatives now, she said, slipping her hand in her purse and retrieving her mobile phone. We can settle this just the three of us, or we can get the authorities involved. The choice is yours.
I havent committed a crime.
Not yet, Leigh conceded. But the second you run that picture, Ill have the cops on you so fast you wont have time to crawl back under your rock.
The little man lifted his chin, but defeat hollowed out his dark eyes. Im just trying to get a story.
A story that doesnt exist, Eric said, moving to stand by her side. A story based on lies and half truths.
Youre so damn cocksure, Cantrell spat, then slunk into his hotel room and retrieved a long white envelope from the desk. But the truth will come out, he vowed, returning to the doorway. It always does.
Eric took the envelope from Cantrell and removed the negatives, held them up toward the light. How do we know these are the only copies you have?
A little smile twisted the reporters mouth. You dont.
Damn it, Cantrell
Leigh put her hand to Erics forearm. Hes not going to run any pictures, Eric.
But I am going to run the truth, the reporter snarled. And the truth is that the government is keeping secrets from us all. There are at least five genetically engineered men and women living among us, walking time bombs ready to explode at any minute. Very pointedly, he met Leighs gaze. Dont say I didnt warn you.
Eric couldnt believe how badly hed lost his cool. If Leigh hadnt shown up when she had, he could well be back behind bars, charged with assaulting a reporter. No way was he going to let that muckraker drag Leighs name through the mud. If Eric fell, Leigh was not going with him.
Clenching his hands around his steering wheel, he stared at the snarl of downtown traffic, but saw only the glare of truth. Someone was playing him like a damn puppet, jerking his strings and watching him dance like a marionette in front of a firing squad, laughing as he twisted in the wind.
at least five genetically engineered men and women living among us, walking time bombs ready to explode.
Cantrells words echoed insidiously. The claim sounded insane, but Jake had confirmed truth to the reporters words. Government files indicated genetic experimentation had occurred in the 1960s. Children had been born, manipulated, their memories erased. Allegedly these children had been sent to live with adoptive parents, where theyd grown to adulthood with no knowledge of their uniqueness.
With no knowledge of the danger they posed to everyone else.
Eric swore softly. Deep in his bones, he didnt believe he was one of those children, but he had no way to disprove Cantrells theory. The Joneses had adopted him from an orphanage, where theyd received no information about his prior life. They knew only that a woman had surrendered him to the nuns, claiming she could no longer care for the energetic two-year-old.
Eric had never looked for her. The Joneses had been the only parents he needed.
But that didnt mean he hadnt wondered. What was his real mother like? His father? Whose dimple did he have? Whose blue eyes? Whose tall, athletic build? Whose throwing arm? Did he have any brothers or sisters? Nieces? Nephews?
As a child hed felt guilty for those thoughts; as a man he felt angry. The answers didnt matter. His birth mother had decided that the night she surrendered him to the orphanage.
But nownow the answers could help prove he was a normal, average guy, not the product of genetic engineering.
But those answers, if they existed, had died with Susan Jones. Eric didnt even know the name of the orphanage from which hed been adopted. Finding out had never seemed important.
Now the questions, the possibilities, gnawed. He fit the profile, damn it. He fit the profile.
Frowning, Eric turned onto Michigan Avenue. He and Leigh had said their goodbyes at the hotel and gone their separate ways, agreeing to meet at her office toward the end of the day. His body burned at the memory of her sleeping in his big bed, seeing her long, dark hair fanned out on his white pillowcase, the way those strands had felt beneath his fingertips, like silk. Hed wanted to slide beside her and pull her against him, but
The ringing of his mobile phone interrupted the dangerous thought. Jones here.
Eric, its me.
The second he heard her voice, he knew something was wrong. Whats happened? he asked, accelerating.
She sighed. Its Hack.
A moment passed before the name clicked; Hack was the young man Leigh had contacted to look into the elaborate wire transfers and network of electronic trails. Tell me.
His apartment was torched, Leigh said. Early this morning. He was inside asleep when it happened, but his cat woke him and they managed to escape through a window.
Eric swore softly. Regret slammed in, hard and fast. Theyre watching us. Theyre watching every damn move.
I know, Leigh said, and sounded tired. But Hack is in a safe house now, and he managed to get his computer out with him.
Eric turned into the parking garage of Leighs building. Had he found anything?
Hes not sure yet, but he di
d indicate hed been following some interesting trails.
After taking a ticket, Eric headed up the ramp toward the Brightman and Associates visitor parking. Inside the bowels of the building, his mobile connection crackled. The signals fading, he said. Ill be there in a few minutes. We can talk more then.
Okay. Leigh hesitated. Ericthanks.
He rounded the bend and looked for a spot. Like I could stay away from you after last night.
The sound was distorted, but Leigh laughed. thoughtful of you, he made out. havent openedboxbut Im surebeautiful.
Eric swung into a spot for a car much smaller than his. What box?
breaking upsee youfew minutes.
Leigh, wait! But it was too late. He looked at his mobile phone and saw the Call Ended signal.
Adrenaline spewed nastily. Eric turned off the car and threw open the door, not caring about the shiny black Mercedes in the way.
Then he ran.
He hadnt sent Leigh a box.
Leigh hung up the phone and leaned back in her chair, lifting a hand to rub the tension at her temples. Time was running out. The grand jury would convene in less than a week, and an indictment was looking more and more likely. They would go to trial then, and the nightmare would drag on.
She couldnt let that happen. She couldnt let Eric stand trial, go to prison for a crime he hadnt committed. Shed spoken with her private investigators earlier in the day, and theyd both been vague but optimistic about information theyd uncovered. Just a few more days, theyd promised. That was all they needed.
Hack had said the same. Hed indicated he didnt want to get her hopes up, but hed accessed the World Bank system and found some strange echo trails. Hed found the same trails leading to her bank account, where sums of fifty thousand dollars appeared and vanished on a daily basis. Hed stumbled across something else, hed said, but didnt go into detail.
Family Secrets: Books 5-8 Page 37
