by Debra Webb
“Please,” she pleaded, “I can’t take any more.”
“Just let go, baby...lose yourself.” He trailed his tongue down her belly and lavished her in the most intimate and carnal ways a man could pleasure a woman.
Gasping for breath, she took his advice and threw off all her inhibitions. No rules, no worries, just the incredible pleasure coursing through her veins. Feeling fearless now, she turned the tables on him. She wanted to taste all of him. She wanted to touch him in ways she had never touched anyone. She wanted to drown in the sensation of his voice whispering against her skin...of his body moving against hers.
She wanted him...all of him. And then she wanted more.
Chapter Sixteen
Sunday, September 25, 6:50 a.m.
Clint watched the woman sleeping next to him. He tried to convince himself that last night had been about having ignored his physical needs for far too long, but that wasn’t true. He wasn’t a fool and he hadn’t survived this long by lying to himself.
Last night had been about desire. The basic, naked longing to have something or someone you wanted so desperately. Yes, last night had been about desperation. Complete, utter desperation several degrees above primal craving. He wanted Natalie Drummond for far more than her body. He wanted her mind and spirit. He longed to touch her heart. No...he yearned to own her heart.
More terrifying, he wanted to give himself to her without reservation. This was a place he had never been before. He didn’t want to be here now. He wasn’t the sort of man she would want to spend her life with.
He freed himself from the tangle of silk sheets and moved away from the bed. The rising sun filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows, stretching its glow across the white rumpled linens, touching her face. Her long dark hair fanned over her pillow making him want to run his fingers through it. He had learned every part of her...tasted every inch of her. And he wanted more.
His body stirred with need. How easy it would be to slide between those sheets and take her again this morning. She had shown him over and over with her soft whispers and urgent whimpers that she wanted him with equal ferocity. With her touch, her kiss, and the way her body opened and accepted him so completely. The trouble was, he understood that what she had needed—what he had needed—last night was only temporary.
Natalie was in a vulnerable place right now. She was desperate for the truth and equally terrified to trust. He was the anchor she clung to in these turbulent waters. Though she was recovering exceedingly well, the TBI would continue to impact her life on some level. When the case was closed and her life was hers again, she would realize her mistake. She wouldn’t look at him the same way and that was the part that terrified him the most.
Clint shook his head. He was a fool. He hit the shower and washed away the evidence of just how big a fool he’d been. He would get his act together and finish the job. He’d never been anything less than completely reliable. He wouldn’t fall down on the job now.
* * *
CLINT WAS HAVING his second cup of coffee in the morning sun when she found him. She smiled and his chest tightened.
“Coffee’s great.” She sat down at the table with him and set her cup there. “What a perfect way to spend the morning.” She admired the city view. “I love everything about this place.”
Despite his best efforts he couldn’t help inventorying every detail he adored about her. She had showered and dried her long hair. Though she wore the same sweater and jeans as yesterday, she looked fresh and soft. The urge to carry her back to his bed and block out the rest of the world for a few more days was a palpable force.
“You want breakfast?” Last night they had devoured dinner between lovemaking sessions. Still, he was ravenous this morning. Unfortunately his appetite went well beyond mere food.
She shook her head. “I’m not hungry.” She stared at her cup and traced a slow circle around the rim. “I didn’t dream last night. At least nothing I remember.”
“Is that unusual?” He directed his thoughts to the case. She’d come to him for help and here he was feeling sorry for himself for developing these feelings. Not to mention his selfish need to make love to her again and again.
“In the beginning I took something to help me sleep. It was crucial. My brain seemed to forget when to shut itself down. To heal, it needed rest. When I stopped the sleep aids, the dreams became more vivid and intense. It didn’t bother me at first. I was warned that some memories would return that way. You know, hard and fast and complete. Sometimes the dreams were just jumbled pieces of my life. But they were always there, every night. Except last night.”
“The wine,” he proposed. “I slept like a rock myself.”
Her gaze held his, the same desire he felt was crystal clear in those blue depths. “I think it was more than the wine.”
“I should get you home.” If she stayed and kept looking at him that way he would end up carrying her back to his bed post haste. Not a good idea.
“I called my friend Sadie for an appointment.”
“Dr. Morrow?” He searched her face. “Are you feeling all right?” He hadn’t thought of anyone but himself last night. He should have realized sex would have a major impact on her emotions for a whole host of reasons.
“Yes.” She nodded. “I feel great. Better than I have in a long time.”
Now he was confused. “Then why do you need to see your psychologist?”
“I don’t want to waste any more time. People are dying. I can’t keep waiting for the memories to come back to me. We know Rosen and Vince withheld evidence—or worse. The only witness who can prove what really happened is dead. I must find that evidence. Sadie can help me. She can take me back to the day before the...fall.”
“You want to use hypnosis. Have you done that before? Is it safe under the circumstances?” He wasn’t comfortable with this. If hypnosis was the answer, surely one of her doctors would have suggested it before now.
“There are always risks when toying with the mind,” she confessed. “I’d rather take that risk than to sit around waiting for the next attempt on my life. By now Rosen is aware that I know his secret.”
He couldn’t have said it better himself, but that didn’t mean he liked her plan one bit. He could protect her from outside threats. What she was proposing took her beyond his reach. “We’ll talk to Dr. Morrow. If the risk is too great,” he shook his head, “we’ll find another way.”
Natalie scooted back her chair and stood. “I appreciate your concern, but I’ve spent the better part of two years having people tell me what’s best for me. I think it’s time I made a few decisions of my own.”
Knowing a brick wall when he hit one, Clint gathered their cups. “You’re the boss.”
He left the cups in the sink and headed for his closet. He secured his handgun at his belt. Since turning in his badge he rarely carried. With recent events, being armed was warranted. He selected a jacket and a tie. As he secured the silk fabric around his neck, he studied his reflection. At thirty-six he thought his life was on track. Financially secure, a satisfying career, no family obligations other than the occasional call to his mom. Why the abrupt urgent need for more?
He already knew the answer. Everyone he counted as a friend, including his boss, was either getting married or having babies. He wanted that, too.
“Ridiculous.” He dismissed the restless feeling and purposely kept his gaze away from the rumpled sheets as he left his bedroom.
Natalie waited near the elevator. She looked him up and down, and then her lips spread into a smile. His gut tightened at the sheer beauty of that smile. His feelings weren’t about marriage or having babies—they were about this woman.
Oh yeah. He was in trouble here.
Oxmoor Road
9:40 a.m.
“WE’VE DISCUSSED THIS BEFORE,�
�� Natalie insisted. “There’s no other way. I have to do it.”
Sadie wasn’t convinced. “Dr. Cromeans is not a fan of regression therapy. He prefers to allow the memories to return in their own time. Since he’s the physician of record on your case, I would need—”
Natalie expected her to resist. “Two people are dead,” she reminded her old friend. “There have been at least two, potentially three, attempts on my life. I need to be proactive.”
Sadie considered her reasoning for a moment. “You seem more like your old self today. Are you feeling stronger? More confident?”
“Yes.” Natalie nodded. “In spite of the trouble cropping up around me, I don’t feel out of control.” In fact, she felt as if she could take on the world. She felt strong.
“This is very good news, Nat. So many patients who’ve been through a TBI never fully regain their confidence in self, which is so essential to moving forward with their lives. I am immensely pleased with your progress.”
Natalie wanted to tell her about last night, but she couldn’t share it just yet. Her pulse reacted to the idea that Clint waited just outside the room. She had no idea how she would ever convince him to stay once the case was closed. Somehow she would find a way. She didn’t want to let him go. The idea might be foolish but her father had taught her to go for what she wanted and to never let go.
She wanted Clint Hayes in her life.
“Do this for me, Sadie,” she urged. “I’ll sign whatever sort of release is needed. I can’t afford not to try and I certainly can’t wait another day.”
Sadie sighed. “I really wish you would reconsider.”
“I won’t,” Natalie warned. “I have to know where I hid the evidence.”
“Though I don’t know all the details, I can understand how time is your enemy in this.”
Natalie could feel her old friend’s resistance weakening. She couldn’t make Sadie a target by sharing the tragic truth with her just yet. When this was over and those responsible were brought to justice she would tell her friend everything.
“All right, if you’re sure this is what you want.”
“I’m sure.”
“Let’s move to the session seating.”
Natalie relocated to the chaise lounge. She sank into the butter-soft leather and closed her eyes.
“Find a comfortable position and just breathe. Deep and slow. Notice how your body relaxes as the air slowly leaves your lungs. Breathe. In...out. Deeper. Slower. Feel how your body is relaxing. Each breath you release purges your body of the stress and worry. It’s going...going...all gone.”
Natalie felt so light she could be floating. Breathe...deep and slow.
“Imagine you’re walking along the street where you live. You can see your house but it’s far, far away. As I slowly count you’re going closer to home. Each number takes you closer and closer. One...you are so relaxed and your body is just floating toward home. Two...”
Natalie floated along, closer and closer to the home where she’d grown up...where she’d lived her whole life.
“Natalie, it’s September eighth two years ago. You wake up that morning feeling relaxed and happy.”
Natalie threw the covers back and stepped out of bed. “No,” she murmured, fear creeping into her bones.
“It’s all right, Natalie, you can see but nothing from that day can hurt you now. Where are you going?”
“I have a meeting at the funeral home with Mrs. Stuart. She has something to show me. She says it’s important. I’m worried that it’s a setup, but my instincts won’t let me ignore her.” Natalie’s heart started to pound. Her body felt stiff and her lungs burned as if she’d been running. “I shouldn’t go, but I have to. Whoever sent the letters knows something I need to know...”
“Where are you, Natalie?”
Sadie’s voice touched her in the darkness like a soothing whisper. Natalie moved toward the sound. She felt calmer now. She could do this. “I have the evidence. I don’t know what to do. This is going to change everything.” She moved her head side to side. “This is bad...so bad.”
“Where are you taking the evidence, Natalie? Do you need to hide it?”
“Yes.” In her mind, Natalie opened the pocket doors of her father’s study. “It’s late. I’ll turn it over to the judge in the morning.” She needed a safe place to hide it. Natalie searched the room that served as her home office. A really good place where no one would think to look. She went through the drawers and the shelves. Where did she hide it? Her attention landed on the liquor cabinet. “There.”
“Where, Natalie?”
“The liquor cabinet.” She opened the lower doors and found the beautiful carved wooden case that contained a fifth of Jack Daniels sipping whiskey. It had been a gift to her father from one of his friends. Natalie removed the bottle and set it aside. She carefully folded the two documents and placed them in the box so the bottle would cover them. Then she closed the box and tucked it safely in the farthest corner of the cabinet. “It’ll be safe here.”
“Where are you going now, Natalie?”
The sound of Sadie’s voice was farther and farther away. Natalie stood in the entry hall and gazed up to the second-story landing. It was late. She should get some sleep. Tomorrow she was going to jeopardize her career by doing the right thing. She must be out of her mind. No. No. It was the right thing to do. Poor Mrs. Thompson deserved justice for her family. How could the firm have allowed Rison Medical to get away with what they’d done?
Not fair.
She took the first step up.
“Natalie, you can wake up now.”
Sadie’s voice was so far away she could hardly hear her. Natalie climbed the stairs and went to her room. She was so tired. She slid into the bed and closed her eyes. She needed to sleep.
“Natalie!”
Natalie opened her eyes. Where was she? At home in bed. What day was it? She had to hurry. She threw back the covers and sat up.
Laugher floated to her.
Whispers brushed her senses. More laughter. April? What was her sister doing here?
Natalie moved into the hall. More whispers, a man’s voice this time, drifted in the air. April was in her room with someone. Had she and David come here for some reason? Why didn’t they wake her? No, wait. She remembered. April and David had a fight. Had they made up?
What time was it? A single dong sounded downstairs. She wandered in that direction. She reached the landing. Below, the entry hall was dark and yet somehow the grandfather clock stood in a pool of light. Eleven forty-five.
Good grief. It wasn’t even midnight. She should go back to bed. Her stomach rumbled. Had she forgotten to eat? After the meeting with Mrs. Stuart she’d had no appetite. She could eat now. A sandwich maybe. Coffee would be good. Maybe not. She might not be able to go back to sleep.
“Natalie!”
She frowned. Was that Sadie calling her name? What was she doing here?
Natalie started down the stairs and suddenly her body bowed forward as if something had struck her in the back. She was tumbling down the stairs. Screams surrounded her, rising up in the air until her head slammed into the marble floor.
Darkness.
Whispering voices.
* * *
“NATALIE!”
Clint burst into the office. Sadie was shaking Natalie. The screams abruptly stopped and Natalie sat up.
Clint rubbed his neck and swore. “What the hell happened?”
Sadie shook her head. “I’m not sure. She stopped listening to my voice and went off on her own journey. Are you all right, Nat?”
Natalie nodded and then stared at Sadie for a long moment before lifting her gaze to Clint. He held his breath as she spoke. “I know where the evidence is.”
Sadie refused to per
mit them to leave until she was convinced Natalie was calm and feeling balanced. Clint navigated after-church and lunchtime traffic while keeping one eye on his passenger. She hadn’t said much since they left her friend’s office.
“Did you remember anything else?”
“Just the impact of being pushed...and falling. My head slamming against the floor and then the darkness.”
“What about the whispers and the laughter? Could you hear those up till the moment you were pushed?”
She took a few moments to answer. “Yes.” She turned to him. “They were still whispering and laughing in April’s room.”
“I think,” Clint said carefully, “in that case we can rule out April and Beckett. If they were still in the bedroom, they were nowhere near you.”
“We can also rule out Suzanna and Leonard and certainly David.” She laughed, a sound that held no humor. “April wouldn’t have brought her lover to the house if there was a chance David might join them.”
“Farago.” Maybe Clint just wanted it to be him. He couldn’t deny a sense of giddy anticipation at the possibility of seeing the guy go down.
“Or someone he or Rosen hired.” She stared out the window. “It’s hard to imagine my colleagues as enemies but I know it’s true of at least two or three of those closest to me.”
He told himself not to do it, but he might as well have been talking to the wall. He placed his hand over hers on the console. “I can’t promise this will sharpen your powers of perception to the point you’ll never have to worry about being deceived this way again, but I can guarantee you it won’t hurt as much next time.”
“I suppose that’s something.”
Clint parked his Audi in her garage. “As soon as we find the documents, we’ll take them to the office, make a copy and put them in the safe. We don’t want to risk losing the only copy.”
