“Tell me you have a condom in your wallet, cowboy,” she said, shoving at his trousers. He fumbled for it, dumping his wallet on the floor, and Darcy snatched it, then hooked her foot in his slacks and sent them down. He stepped back and stripped, then grabbed her against him.
His erection pushed between them.
It was all she could do not to climb on him right now.
Then he lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around him, leaning back, and together, they tumbled to the bed. She laughed softly, clinging to him, thrusting against him.
“Now, Jack, please, oh, now.”
He pressed her into the mattress, his knee wedged between her thighs. “Not so fast, baby.”
“Yes, fast, right now.” She squirmed beneath him, but he just grinned and dragged his tongue over her nipples, then latched on. “Ohh.” She dug her fingers into his shoulders. He was devouring and greedy, and it had been so long since she felt this good. She wanted to be touched, to play and be wild with him. And he would be wild. She could feel it, in the tense yank of his body, in the way he stroked and teased her.
“Jack,” she gasped.
“Man, you taste good.” His mouth cruised over her skin, wet and hot. He nudged her thighs apart, slipping a finger inside her and she moaned, kissing him as he slid in and out. Her hips pumped with his touch, and when he circled the beads of her sex, she nearly came off the bed, urging him on.
Gazes locked and she cupped him, rolling the condom down, playing, making it impossible to resist her. He sat back on his haunches, scooping her off the bed and onto his lap.
She was trapped in his gaze. Everything inside her went still, hanging by a thread.
“Darcy?”
She choked.
He kissed her face. “Tell me.”
“This hurts, Jack. I didn’t think it would.” She could feel the pain of her past shattering. A living thing that had gnawed at her for so long was dying with his touch, his trust.
“Hard to let those secrets go?” he said softly.
She nodded.
“Then let me carry them for a while.”
Her eyes teared. He kissed them softly, his mouth working magic over hers and in moments the energy steamed between them, and Darcy was begging for him to be inside her.
He entered her, teasing her with the tip. “Oh, Jack.”
Then in one long thrust, he filled her, making a sound all men made when they found satisfaction. Making her wounded heart bleed.
He kissed her ravenously, pushing in short thrusts, then longer and longer till Darcy felt herself falling apart inside. She moved with him, enjoying the thick hard push of man, the warm pulse inside her.
Oh, she’d missed this. She missed being taken. Feeling loved.
Her eyes suddenly burned and she scolded herself for it.
“Look at me.”
She did, holding his gaze as he slid from her and then plunged deeply. He had one broad warm hand on her behind, giving her motion, the other cupping the back of her head. His eyes were bluer, intense. She’d never had a man who was so intent on her pleasure, and seeing it.
“I feel you grabbing me,” he whispered, pushing harder and faster. He leaned till she was on her back, keeping his eyes on her face, the power of him pushing them across the bed with frantic cadence.
Laughing, Darcy grabbed the headboard, braced her feet on the mattress and let herself go. Her hips rose, her body open. On his knees Jack watched himself disappear into her, then met her gaze, quickening his pace. And she took all of him, a hundred sensations rushing at her at once, the feel of his skin, his fierce blue eyes, the hot throb clawing through her body. Her heart pounded wildly. Her breath labored. His hips pistoned.
“Come here, cowboy. Closer, I need you closer.” Grabbing the headboard, Jack slipped one arm under her, holding her off the bed. Her spine bowed and every sensation intensified.
Faster, deeper. Hotter. He shoved once, twice. The explosion ripped through them, pleasure crashing in heavy waves. The air prickled with it, and she clamped her legs around him, pulling him down onto her as the fire roared through them like a savage beast.
Feminine muscles clamped, robbing them of thought. They strained, kissing wildly even as they tried to catch their breath. Then like a dying wind, they softened and slumped to the side, a tangle of arms and legs on a lake of wrinkled sheets.
“Ah, Jesus, Darcy,” he said, breathless.
Something inside her shattered. Old pain, old life disintegrated.
She curled into his body, realized that he’d had her heart a long time ago. Tonight, she gave it freely. She met his gaze, his smile was soft and tender.
“This changes everything,” she said.
He looked at her, brushing her hair back. “You okay with that?”
He seemed apprehensive right then. Darcy cupped his jaw, laying a warm kiss over his mouth. “Yes, I am.”
She settled back in his arms, her eyes closing with exhaustion and new freedom.
Then in the quiet, his voice rumbled softly. “So…you’re really a blonde, huh?”
Slowly, Darcy met his amused gaze. He arched an eyebrow. She grinned, shoving a pillow in his face.
Chapter 12
I n the middle of the night, Darcy’s cell phone rang.
She left the bed, smiling as Jack’s fingers slid over her arm.
“If that’s Charlie,” he said groggily, “Tell him I said hi.”
“I will not. It’s the middle of the night. He’ll know we—” She gestured between them.
Jack grinned. “He’s a smart kid, he’ll figure it out.”
Darcy rolled her eyes, then hunted in her purse for the phone. “Piper Daniels.” Jack made a face at that.
Raspy breaths came through. “It’s me.”
“Cleo?”
“They came after me.”
“I’m in your hotel, come right now.” She gave her the room number, then ended the call.
Jack was already out of bed, pulling on jeans.
“It’s Cleo, I think she’s been hurt.”
Darcy rifled through her bags for clothes, then went to the bath, showering quickly, then dressing. By the time she came out, Jack had everything tidy. Got to love a man who pitches in, she thought.
“When she gets here, don’t use my real name. Just because you know doesn’t mean I can afford to come out of the closet yet.”
“This is getting complicated,” Jack said.
When the knock came, he looked through the peephole, then said, “Jesus.” He threw it open, pulling her in.
Cleo struggled against him till Darcy came to her. “It’s all right, he’s a friend. God, Cleo.” Darcy smoothed her hair back. Cleo’s face looked like a punching bag. “Jack, get some ice for this.”
She led the woman to the nearest chair, and when he brought a cloth with ice, she pressed it to Cleo’s cheek.
Her left eye was already darkening with a bruise, and her neck bore deep red finger marks. Big and wide. A man had tried to strangle her.
Jack offered her a glass of water, and Cleo sipped.
Darcy glanced at Jack. He didn’t look happy about this and sat down beside her.
“Tell us what happened,” Darcy said.
Holding the compress, Cleo gave her a one-eyed stare. “I was at my place, just got there and hadn’t even opened the door yet. They came outta nowhere. One guy grabbed me and slammed me against the door. He held me by the throat, and every time he spoke, he smacked me.”
“What did they want?”
“Nothing. It was just a little reminder to keep my mouth shut.”
Jack went for his pistol, checking the load and putting on the holster.
Darcy knew it wasn’t all because of her part in the investigation. Five other Cassandras were looking into the egg mining and Rainy’s accident. She hoped they were all okay.
“I gotta go,” Cleo said, trying to stand. “They’ll come here and hurt you.”
Darcy easily pus
hed her back down. “I won’t let that happen.”
“Neither will I,” Jack said. Cleo’s gaze landed on the pistol in Jack’s holster. “And someone already attacked her.”
“But this is the second warning,” Darcy said and Jack’s eyes narrowed. He’d confessed to being there as her backup when she’d met Touchy.
Slowly Cleo lowered the ice pack. “When?”
“I was meeting with Touchy and two men got to him first. I managed to get the little pig away from them.” Cleo eyed her. Darcy wasn’t a big person, and clearly Cleo didn’t believe that was possible. “I needed Tony alive and talking. And I’m stronger than I look.”
“She kicks like a damn mule,” Jack said but his look said it wasn’t enough. Darcy agreed.
This was more dangerous than they’d thought and if any of it came back to hurt Charlie, she’d never forgive herself. She took a damp rag and began cleaning the cuts on Cleo’s face.
“How did you get away?” Darcy asked.
“Kneed one guy in the balls, then smacked the other in the head with my purse. I have a brick in there, just for that.”
“Ouch,” Jack said. “Good thinking.”
Darcy smiled. “How about you tell me everything?”
“What’s to tell? They tried to kill me. The first man had a knife and said he was going to finish what the other man started.”
“What other guy?”
Cleo looked away, then let out a harsh breath. “The one who did this.” She held out her hands, palms up. Her wrists had been sliced. The scars were old and silvery. To make it look like suicide?
“Good God.” Her gaze flicked up. “I think you better start from the beginning.”
Cleo shook her head. “I tell you any more and you two will be in some real danger,” she said. “I wouldn’t risk it.”
“Then why did you come here?” Jack asked.
“I had to warn you.”
And she had nowhere else to go, Darcy thought. “I’m aware of how dangerous asking questions has become, but I can protect you. I can. Don’t look at me like that. I do it all the time. You just have to trust me—us,” she said when Jack laid his hand on her shoulder. She glanced up at him and a well of peace rose in her. He would help her. She wasn’t alone anymore.
She looked at Cleo. “I can slip you into a network where no one will ever find you.” She leaned close and gripped her hands. “I swear to you, we can help you.”
Cleo stared for a long moment, coming to grips with trusting complete strangers, then finally nodded. Darcy went for her tape recorder, setting it on the table between them. They sat in the corner of the hotel room, Jack beside her.
Cleo looked at the recorder, then at Darcy. “I did answer that surrogate ad twenty years ago.”
Darcy felt a weight slide off her shoulders.
“I wanted out of the business and I needed cash to start over. The only way to get Touchy off my ass was to promise to pay him for not working.”
“Walking away from him wouldn’t have been profitable to him.”
“Oh, yeah, he’s all about the money, the little weasel. Anyway, I called for the ad, and they sent me to a doctor. They did a physical and blood test, then they impregnated me with three embryos.”
Darcy felt her hands start to sweat.
“I got pregnant with one, and they set me up in a nice apartment with strict orders to stay there and not talk to anyone about the baby.” She shrugged. “I didn’t know anyone, so it didn’t matter. I wanted a clean break. Sitting on my butt for fifty grand was a whole lot better life than I’d had before then, so I was real game for it.”
“Did they monitor you?”
“Oh, yeah, real close, and I was driven to and from Dr. Reagan’s office each time by some guy who didn’t talk at all.”
“Reagan? You’re sure?” Rainy, Justin Cohen’s sister, Kelly, and now Cleo were all tied to the same dead doctor. What were the chances? Darcy thought, excitement coursing through her. “Did you notice any other women while you were in the offices? Maybe another surrogate?”
“Aside from the staff, most times there wasn’t a soul in there while I was there. It was usually after normal office hours. But once I saw a girl with really clear blue eyes. I noticed her because of the color. Brilliant. She was blond, about your size, and looked sorta nervous. Like she really didn’t want to be there. I heard the receptionist call her something like Tamara or Tanya.”
“I wonder if she was being impregnated as a surrogate, too.”
“I only saw her that one time, so I don’t know if that’s why she was there. Reagan was an OB-GYN, so there must have been many other women who saw him, I guess. If he did one, he could have done a lot more.”
Cleo reached for the water, but her hands shook, so she set it down.
“Cleo?”
The woman looked at her.
“Did you deliver a live baby?”
“Yes, I did.”
Darcy sagged into the chair. So there were potentially two children, Cleo’s and Kelly Cohen’s. But was either baby created from Rainy’s eggs?
“When I went into labor, I called Dr. Reagan. He came and got me, but we never made it to the hospital.”
“Why not?”
“A black car cut us off, and a couple guys got out. They forced Dr. Reagan from the car. They cracked him on the head and put me in their car. I wasn’t in the condition to struggle. I was going to have that baby any second and I didn’t care where.”
“This man who took you, what did he look like?”
Cleo leaned her head back, closing her eyes and drawing on a twenty-year-old memory. “He was average, dark eyes, and I think he wore a wig. He didn’t talk much and when he did, his face was sorta frozen.”
“How so?”
“Like his facial muscles were paralyzed. His eyes would look angry, but his face didn’t shift even a fraction. It was really creepy.” She shivered. “They took me to a warehouse.”
“Do you remember where it was?”
“No. I tried. It must have been somewhere near the hospital, because we didn’t ride for long. But I was in hard labor and all I cared about was pushing that baby out.”
“I understand that,” she said, glancing at Jack. “What happened after you delivered?”
“The instant I pushed that baby out, they took her.”
“Her?”
“Yeah, that much I know. It was a girl. A white baby, too. Strange. But she was so beautiful.” Cleo’s eyes welled up. “Pretty eyes. I never even got to touch her. Some other man took the baby. It wasn’t the guy who brought me there and hurt Dr. Reagan. This other dude, he just stood by as if waiting for a package.”
This is getting more twisted, Darcy thought, checking the tape. Cleo had seen two men, one was obviously the muscle, and the second wanted the product. A human being they’d created? From Rainy’s eggs, or another’s?
“The guy with the wig took me back to my place. I thought he was going to kill me.”
“Why would he do that? You’d fulfilled your promise.”
She shook her head. “It didn’t matter. As far as they were concerned I was a machine and I was no longer useful. This was some top-secret stuff. No one trusted each other. I had nightmares about what they did with the baby.” Cleo shifted the ice pack, continued. “The guy held a knife to my throat, then he did this.” She offered her slashed wrists as proof. “But then he helped me stop the bleeding.”
Darcy’s eyebrows shot up.
“Sick, ain’t it? But I thought for sure I was going to die right there, so I promised not to ever talk about the baby. He told me if I did, he’d know. He’d find me and kill me. And make it hurt.”
“Did Dr. Reagan ever come to you?”
“Yeah, Dr. Reagan came to the apartment with some other guy. I heard him call him Peters. They asked me what happened, and all I said was that the baby was kidnapped. I told them those other guys drugged me and that I didn’t remember even having the baby. I d
idn’t even tell them it was a girl.”
“Do you think they believed you?” Jack asked.
“I don’t care if they did and I didn’t ask. They were pissed. I gave them back most of the money and left town fast.”
“This man, Peters. Was he a doctor? Can you describe him for me?”
Cleo looked at the notepad, then Darcy. “He was older, maybe sixty, sixty-five. Tall, skinny, with snow-white hair. I don’t remember his eyes, he stayed back from me like I had some disease or something. He had a lot of creases in his face and acted real superior, like he was better than anyone on the planet and Dr. Reagan was his flunky. He wasn’t concerned that the baby could have been harmed or killed or that I was cut up.”
Cleo clamped her lips shut, her smooth forehead knitting.
“What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking he was the boss. Because Dr. Reagan did whatever he said. Dr. Reagan checked me to see if I was okay, you know, after the birth and my wrists, but the Peters guy was annoyed and impatient.”
“Has anyone besides me and the bastards who did that—” she pointed to the new bruises and cuts “—ever contacted you since then?”
“No, not outright. But they’ve been around.”
“Really. Did you see them? Did they send a message or something?”
“No, they never talked, never called or nothing, but I was a hooker, I can spot a cop or someone who doesn’t belong somewhere real fast.” She snapped her fingers. “And once in a while I’d see some guy hanging around, smoking a joint on the street corner or drinking with the winos, watching me. And I knew they weren’t part of the crowd, you dig?”
“Yeah, I dig.” It was why Darcy used disguises and makeup and had for years watched the way people behaved. She’d pattern herself after someone she’d seen and slide into the role.
“Did you see anyone else besides that one girl at the doctor’s office, a technician maybe or a nurse?” Darcy thought if she could pinpoint someone working there back then, she might be able to get more information on how and why Reagan had done this. Clearly, he’d been the one to harvest the eggs, or at least given someone a heads-up on a prime candidate to harvest.
Alias Page 14
