The Widow's Bodyguard
Page 12
“No. We talked about doing one, but never got around to drafting it.” She didn’t tell him they’d gotten married only when she’d realized she was pregnant. Drew had just put out his political feelers for running for governor and had been informed he needed a wife and family pronto. The timing had been perfect for them both.
Odd how what had seemed perfectly logical at the time now seemed kind of pathetic.
“That’s weird,” Jesse said. “Because this file contains a prenup, but it’s for Drew and someone else.”
* * *
Jesse handed Eva the document, watching as she read it. She didn’t react, at least not in any outward fashion. She simply flipped to the second page and then the third, before starting over and reading the entire thing again.
“It’s dated before I married him,” she finally said, as if the date explained everything. “Though I have no idea who Chris might be.”
“You don’t know a Christine or maybe a Crystal?” he asked, figuring he might as well probe a bit deeper. “Did you know Drew was seriously involved with someone right before your marriage?”
Meeting his gaze, she slowly shook her head. “No. Drew never mentioned anything about a Chris. At all. But then again, he and I never really discussed our previous relationships.”
Which meant Drew had no idea Jesse and Eva had been together, unless Raul had told him. He’d wondered about that. “Is it possible Drew and Chris might have been married previously?”
Eva appeared shell-shocked. “It’s possible, I guess. Anything is possible at this point.” She shook her head.
“I’ll need to ask Lori,” Eva continued. “She’s been with Drew a long time and I’ll bet she knew.”
Jesse nodded. He thought back to the complete dossier he’d read on Drew Rowson. There had been nothing in there about a previous relationship. Which seemed like a huge oversight. Especially since it had been serious enough to warrant drawing up a prenup.
Eva put the documents aside. “We’ll stack anything else unusual here. Let’s keep going. We might find more about my husband’s past that I didn’t know.”
Eyeing her, he wondered at the lack of bitterness or rancor in her voice. What the hell had happened between her and Drew? The Eva he knew had been passionate about what she loved. She would never have shrugged off learning her spouse clearly had a past of which she knew nothing.
She turned away, immediately diving back into the files. He watched her for another heartbeat or two, before doing the same himself.
The pile of questionable documents grew only slightly. There were some papers that seemed to indicate hidden bank accounts in the Caymans that he wished like hell he could figure out a way to photograph without Eva noticing. Since he couldn’t, he settled for hoping he could get back to them later.
Finally, after over three hours of sifting and sorting, Eva stretched and announced she’d had enough for one night. He looked up and nodded, saying he wanted to finish going through this one file. He held his breath, hoping she’d leave him alone long enough to snap a few pics of the bank information, but she only dropped back into the desk chair and asked him to please hurry up.
“You don’t have to wait,” he said, pushing. “I can join you once I’m finished.”
Looking down at her hands, which she’d begun twisting in her lap, she didn’t move. Finally, she raised her head. The naked emotion in her gaze hit him like a punch to the gut. “I’ll wait,” she said softly. “Right now, I don’t want to be alone.”
Swallowing past the ache in his throat, he nodded. “I’ll hurry, then.”
When he finished, he carefully closed the file cabinet and headed toward the door, waiting while she closed it after him, using a key she pulled from her jeans pocket to lock it. “I don’t want anyone else to have access to that room,” she said, correctly interpreting his surprise. “I’m still hoping to find the original copy of his will, even though Lori seems to think it’s at the office.”
“Why?” he asked, deciding to be blunt. “What’s everyone’s interest in the will? Texas is a community property state, so there’s really not a whole lot he can do to cut you out.”
“True. But you saw that other prenup. There could be other women in his past. Who knows if he had other assets or possessions he wants them to have?”
“What aren’t you telling me?” he pushed. “Something isn’t adding up. I caught that his parents seemed awfully intent on finding the will. What is everyone expecting to find out?”
She sighed. “If you really want to know, I think Drew was involved in a long-term relationship with someone else. For all I know, it might have been with this Chris woman. Clearly, for whatever reason, he couldn’t or wouldn’t marry her. But that doesn’t mean he didn’t want her to have something after he was gone.”
“If he loved her, why on earth would he have married you?”
His sharp comment made her wince. “I loved you yet I married him,” she replied. “You know as well as anyone that sometimes love isn’t enough.” With a sigh, she brushed her hair away from her face. “All Drew ever wanted was a career in politics. Everything he did—including his job and his friends—was a means toward that end. I might be the daughter of a biker club president, but my father is powerful and has well-connected friends. To all appearances, my dad operates completely above the law. He has the ability to call in favors from a lot of prominent people, including high-ranked politicians. Drew married me for that reason alone. Maybe this Chris, whoever she is, wouldn’t have helped his political aspirations. She might even have hindered it.”
“That’s cold-blooded,” he said, before he thought. “Did he actually tell you he married you for that reason?” And if he had, how had Eva, passionate, volatile Eva, been able to accept that? The Eva he knew would never have settled for being second best.
But the Eva he’d known was no longer in existence.
“He did,” Eva answered, though she wouldn’t meet his gaze.
Back in the main part of the house, Eva went to the kitchen and began reorganizing the pantry. At least this trait of hers remained the same—she’d always liked to keep busy to help distract her. Which relieved him. He’d been worried she’d wander around the empty house like a lost ghost missing her son.
His cell phone rang and she lit up. “It’s Mike,” she said. Glancing at the caller ID, he saw she was correct, so he handed it to her. She took a deep breath before answering. To his surprise, she put the call on speakerphone so Jesse could hear.
Mike sounded chipper, letting her know they’d stopped for dinner at a hamburger joint east of Tulsa. He put Liam on the line, and Eva carried on an earnest conversation—from the sound of it mostly toddler babble—with the boy. Judging by the jubilant excitement in his high-pitched voice, Liam viewed it all as a great big adventure. His boisterous responses put a smile on Eva’s face. But even that was tinged with sadness, because the instant she ended the call, she burst into tears.
Handing him his phone, she turned her back to him, and left the kitchen for the den, shoulders silently shaking while she cried. He stared for one long moment, then muttered a curse and followed her. Vow be damned. He couldn’t stand to see Eva hurting so badly.
“Come here,” he muttered, walking up behind her and gently turning her to face him. “It’s going to be all right.”
She made a sound, a low moan like an animal in pain. Her gaze locked with his and held. Her lips parted and then she reached up and cupped both hands alongside his face. She pulled him to her, crushing her mouth to his. Instead of tenderness, she kissed him with raw need, her hunger for him electrifying.
Fire ignited, zinging in his veins, short-circuiting everything but the seductive feel of this woman in his arms. His woman, her mouth warm, her tongue mating with his. She pushed herself into him, moving them backward, until he stumbled and fell back into the overstuffed chair, pu
lling her down, almost on top of him.
This didn’t faze her at all. Instead, her eyes gleaming, she straddled him. She gave a soft, sexy laugh, the sound so reminiscent of the Eva he loved that his body responded instantly. She kissed him again, her mouth continuing to move over his in deep, drugging kisses full of passion, full of soul. He slipped his hands up her arms, her skin so silky soft, not sure if he meant to hold her in place or bring her closer. She decided for him, pushing her lush body into his, rubbing up against him, her sensual movements both an unbearable temptation and a demand for more.
He tried to think, to remember his vow and all that separated them, but she moved again, this time in a circle, the heat of her right on top of him, and he lost the capacity for rational thought. Another jolt of arousal had his pulse pounding, his body responding by surging even more in immediate readiness. He wanted her, oh, how he wanted her, needed her, craved her. Because he’d never forgotten the way their bodies fit together, how she’d always cried out with pleasure when he was inside her, and the way they’d somehow instinctively known how to move to bring each other to the peak at the same time.
He had no doubt he’d go to his grave remembering this. He knew he’d never stop wanting her, and the way she could bring him to his knees.
And still, still, even as his body throbbed and he arched into her, he tried his best to resist. “We shouldn’t—” he began.
She touched him then, stroking him through his jeans in that way she knew would set him on fire. He swallowed hard, his fingers moving over her skin of his own accord, sliding down one hip, cupping one full breast. He ached to taste her and more.
“Eva...” He tried again, his voice raspy with desire. “Maybe we should slow down. Think about if you really want to do this. You’ve been through a lot and—”
“Shh.” She kissed him again, still moving against him as if she couldn’t control her own body. “Make love with me, Jesse. I need you. I need you to make me feel alive again,” she whispered, her breath hot against his ear. She moved herself in another circle, her heat caressing his arousal, and he could barely think.
“Alive?” he managed, wondering how she could feel anything but. She arched her back, yanking her T-shirt over her head, and then her bra. Her full breasts spilled free, and even as he leaned forward to suckle one engorged nipple, she pushed up off him. Standing, she shimmied out of her jeans, then her panties, which he couldn’t help but notice were black lace and sexy as hell.
When she stood naked in front of him, he forgot all about her underwear, because Eva was every bit as gloriously curvy and as sensual as he remembered.
“Your turn,” she ordered, her smoldering gaze making promises he couldn’t wait for her to keep. Swallowing hard, he divested himself of his clothes as rapidly as possible. When he also stood naked, his fierce arousal jutting strong and thick, she licked her lips, sending another jolt right to his core.
“The couch?” he asked, reaching for her. But she shook her head and shoved him back into the chair.
“No. Here.” Once again she straddled him, shimmying just enough before she slid her body over his. Warm and wet, she sheathed him tightly. Inside her felt so much like going home, he nearly wept.
Instead, he began to move.
They burned, they touched, their dance of desire bringing smoldering ashes to a raging inferno. She destroyed him, and yet remade him, reaching for the pinnacle even as the flames seared his soul.
When she began to shudder, her body clenching, molten honey flowing, he let his tenuous control go and reached for his own climax, finding it with her.
Chapter 9
Eva lay in Jesse’s strong arms while their breathing slowed and perspiration dried on their overheated skin. She regretted many things in her life, but this would never be one of them. For the first time in what seemed like forever, she felt alive. Gloriously, sensually alive.
Jesse might not be part of her future, but he was no longer only in her past. She wanted to live in the present, right here, right now, as long as she could.
However, she remained enough of a clearheaded pragmatist to understand that in the end, nothing would have changed between them. Jesse had made his choice. And she’d made hers. If he continued to demand a DNA test to determine Liam’s parentage, she’d comply. And if Liam turned out to be Jesse’s son, they’d work something out as far as visitation, if Jesse wanted that. And if he didn’t, well, she’d do her best to understand.
She stirred, her body still entangled with Jesse’s, and wondered why life had to be complicated.
“We’d better cover up,” Jesse said, kissing the hollow at the base of her throat where the pulse still beat erratically. “Pretty soon the guys are going to change shifts and I’m thinking we don’t really want them to see us naked.”
“The guys.” Horrified, she glanced at the windows, relieved to see the blinds were closed. “I can’t believe I forgot all about them. We’re lucky they didn’t walk in on us.”
He glanced at the stairs and nodded. “While I’m sure they respect me—and you—enough to turn themselves around and hightail it back up the stairs, maybe next time, we should try this in the bedroom with the door closed.”
Next time. Heaven help her, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to tell him there wouldn’t be a next time. Reluctantly, she rolled away and grabbed for her clothing, fumbling as she got dressed under his watchful gaze.
She’d just tugged the shirt over her head when Jesse stirred and pushed himself up, tugging on his underwear and his jeans with slow, deliberate motions designed to draw her gaze. She couldn’t help but watch, her mouth dry and need blooming in her as if she hadn’t just slaked it.
“How about a beer?” Jesse asked, once he’d gotten fully dressed. She shrugged and led the way into the kitchen. Opening the fridge, she handed him a cold can before deciding she’d rather have a glass of wine. Luckily, she had a wine fridge, so she pulled out a bottle, grabbed her electric corkscrew and opened a nice Riesling. After pouring herself a glass, she took a seat across from him at the kitchen table, hoping he didn’t try to discuss what had just happened between them.
When the landline phone rang, she jumped, almost welcoming the distraction. “No one uses that number. It’s got to be the blackmailer.”
“Wait.” Jesse jumped up and grabbed some kind of electronic apparatus from the kitchen counter. “It’s plugged into the phone line,” he said. “Just keep him on the line long enough for me to get a location.”
Taking a fortifying gulp of wine, she nodded. “I’ll try.” And then she took a deep breath and answered the phone.
“Your time is up,” the caller said, his voice both gleeful and threatening. The combination sent a shiver down her spine. “Do you have my money?”
“About that,” she replied, glancing at Jesse and wondering how she could still find him magnificently sexy in the middle of this. He’d put on headphones and pushed a button on the small machine. Seeing her watching, he gave her a thumbs-up.
“We need to talk about your request for money,” she continued, her voice firm enough that she felt it didn’t betray her nervousness.
Interrupting her, the man snarled, “You don’t have it, do you?”
Instead of shrinking away from the malice in his tone, she kept her voice strong. “First off, how do I even know Drew really owed you anything?”
Pushing back felt pretty liberating, actually. “I mean, anyone could call me up and insist my husband owed them money. How do I even know if that’s true? If I took everyone at their word, I’d be handing out money left and right. I’m afraid you’re going to need proof.”
“Proof?” he repeated, incredulous. “You want proof?”
“Yes. You need to back up your claim. Otherwise, I’m afraid I’ll have to consider you just another crackpot trying to benefit from a widow and her horrible loss.”
“Go ahead,” she shot back. “Since I had nothing to do with Drew’s death, I’m really interested to see this so-called evidence. Either put up or shut up.”
Again, it appeared she’d stunned him into silence. She looked over at Jesse, grinning.
“Keep him on the line,” he mouthed.
“Cat got your tongue?” she taunted when the caller still didn’t speak. “Come on, it’s not that hard. If Drew legitimately owes you money, you should be able to come up with something to document your claim. Otherwise, you need to go away and leave me alone.”
One second passed, and then another. “I’ll get your proof,” he said. “But you won’t like it. Goodbye.” And he ended the call.
Disappointed, she hung up the phone. “Was that long enough?” she asked.
“No.” He made a face. “I just needed a few more seconds. However, I’m going to let the FBI know he called you again.”
She nodded. “Can’t they get in touch with my carrier and find out the caller’s number?”
“They could. But most likely he either used a burner phone—one that’s untraceable—or blocked his number. What showed up on your caller ID?”
“Unknown Caller.” She tried not to be too glum. “Which means he blocked his number, right?”
“Probably.” Jesse didn’t appear too concerned. “Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out. He’s actually not the one I’m concerned with.”
“What do you mean?”
“He even admitted he’s not the one trying to hurt you, though he claims to know who is. I’m more worried about the guy who took out your window and tried to blow you up.”
Put that way... “I agree. Do you have any idea what the police are doing to try and catch him?”