by Radclyffe
“There’s nothing you need to hear,” Carter said quietly.
“That’s not the same as there being nothing to tell.”
Carter let the silence be her answer.
“You need to be careful, partner. You’re walking a very thin line.”
“I’m out of it, Kevin. It’s all over.”
“Don’t be so sure. Just keep in touch.”
“Yeah. I’ll do that.” Carter closed the phone as Kevin rang off and stared around the room. Bare walls, boxes waiting to be filled, and the only memories worth keeping were the few minutes that Rica had spent there with her. Not much to say for her or her life.
*
Rica gave the cabdriver ten dollars for the five-dollar trip from Race Point to the center of town. She hefted her briefcase and carry on, and stepped out into Carter’s driveway. “Thank you.”
“You want me to wait?”
“No. I’ll call you back if I need you.”
Carter’s Explorer was ten feet away, the back open and partially filled with boxes. When Rica saw the packed vehicle, she pushed away the immediate sense of loss at the thought of Carter leaving. Carter hadn’t left yet. That was all that mattered. That was all Rica had thought about on her twelve-hour trip. She stopped at the foot of the stairs as Carter started down with an armful of clothes. Carter wore threadbare jeans, a black T-shirt, and running shoes. Her hair was longer and wilder than Rica remembered. She looked dangerous and sexy, and Rica felt a tiny shiver dance through her.
From three feet above her on the stairs, Carter regarded her with surprise. “Rica. Hello.”
Awkwardly, Rica shifted her luggage and then simply put it down on the ground. “Moving out?”
“Yeah.” Carter edged past Rica and dumped the garments into the back of her SUV. “You look good with a tan. Bermuda?”
“Aruba.”
“I hear that’s the place to visit. Been gone long?”
“Five days.” Rica realized her linen blouse and slacks were rumpled from long hours on the plane, and since she hadn’t slept a full night the entire time she’d been away, she probably looked as bad as her clothes. “I came home a couple of days early.”
Carter smiled. “Having too much fun?”
Rica smiled too, but her voice was serious when she replied. “I wanted to see you.”
“Why?”
“I don’t like unfinished business.”
“I think you pretty much finished things the last time we talked.” Carter sidled past her to the stairs and gestured toward her apartment. “I’ve got an open bottle of wine. You look like you could use a drink.”
“I know that’s not a compliment just at the moment.”
Carter lightly touched her fingertips to Rica’s cheek. “The bruise is gone.” She brushed a stray strand of hair away from the corner of Rica’s mouth. “You’ve got a spectacular tan.” She leaned forward as if she might kiss her, then stopped. “You look fantastic.”
“I see that your head injury hasn’t healed yet.” Rica caught her scent—a faint odor of clean sweat, rich grapes, and the sea. Her stomach tightened with the memory of Carter’s hands on her, in her. Thickly she said, “I’ll take that wine.”
“Okay.” Reluctant to move, wondering when she might be this close to Rica again, Carter hesitated another second. “Let me get your bags.”
“Take the light one. Your wrist must still be sore.”
Carter didn’t argue, because Rica was right. She grabbed the briefcase in her better hand and led the way upstairs. Once inside, she propped Rica’s luggage next to her own, found another glass, and poured wine for them both. Then she set the glasses on the table in front of the couch and cleared a space for them to sit. The open doors to the front deck allowed in enough of a breeze that it was comfortable inside.
“Did you come right from the airport?”
“Yes.”
“Not much luggage for almost a week.”
Rica smiled wryly. “Well, Detective Wayne, that’s because most of it is still at the airport waiting for me to pick it up later. I didn’t want to drag it all over here, so I just grabbed what was easy.”
“What’s the hurry?”
Contemplatively, Rica sipped her wine, very aware of Carter’s thigh resting lightly along her own. “I don’t know. I woke up in the middle of the night with this… feeling, that I needed to come back. Right away. All I could think about was seeing you.”
“This just came to you out of the blue?”
“Not exactly. Just the urgent sense that I needed to come home. I’ve been thinking about you all week.”
Despite her resolve not to let her feelings get out of hand, Carter felt a twist of desire. “You’re making me a little bit crazy here, Rica. What’s going on?”
“I’ll tell you. But first…” Rica set her glass aside and cradled Carter’s jaw in the palm of one hand. “I really have to kiss you.”
Carter moaned at the softness of Rica’s mouth and the delicate tease of her tongue along the inside of her lip. She was instantly wet, painfully aroused. “Christ.”
When Rica drew back, she was breathing quickly and her face was flushed. “When did you take the picture?”
“Wait…what?” Carter’s head wasn’t working right, and considering that most of her blood had rushed to a few inches between her legs, she wasn’t surprised. Then her brain clicked in. Pareto had obviously told Rica about the photo and, fleetingly, she wondered if he’d told her the rest. She hadn’t counted on Rica knowing, but there was really no reason not to tell her the truth. “I took it that first morning while you were asleep. With the camera on my cell phone.”
“For one of the reports you were going to turn in?” Rica asked acerbically.
“No. By that time, I knew there wouldn’t be any report on you.” Carter shrugged. “I took it because I…I don’t know. Habit, I guess. It was a crime.” She emptied her wineglass in one deep swallow and refilled it. “It was more than a crime. I guess I just wanted something on him.” She met Rica’s appraising stare. “Taking it without your knowing was an invasion of your privacy. I apologize.”
The corner of Rica’s mouth twitched. “There are a number of things you could apologize for. I don’t think this is one of them.”
“Maybe you should tell me what the other ones are.” Carter held up her hand. “No. Wait. Maybe you could kiss me again first.”
Rica laughed softly. “I don’t think so. I tend to get too distracted, and there are things I want to know.”
“All right.” Carter took Rica’s hand and was relieved when Rica allowed her to hold it. The small connection made her feel more in touch with herself than she had been all week.
“Why did you do it? Why send it to my father?”
“Because I wanted him to know that you weren’t safe.” Carter looked away, the muscles in her jaw bunching as she swallowed her anger. “Because I couldn’t keep you safe.”
Rica stroked Carter’s face. “It’s not your job to do that.”
Carter whipped her head back so quickly Rica jumped. “It wasn’t about the job. I love you.”
Rica closed her eyes. “I don’t want to hear that right now.”
Right now, Carter thought, feeling a glimmer of hope. She didn’t say she didn’t want to hear it at all. “Let me know when you do. Just in case.”
“Don’t try to charm me into forgetting why I came here. Why was my father so sure it was Enzo?”
Carter considered her answer, suddenly aware that Rica didn’t have all the information. She considered any number of stories before realizing that there could be only one answer. Now. Ever. She told her the truth. “I wrote a note on the back.”
“My God, you’re a little bit crazy, aren’t you?”
“Some. Yeah.”
“What did it say?”
“Enzo’s handiwork. And there’s more at the gallery.”
“What?” Unconsciously, Rica looked in the direction of her gallery,
as if she could see it through the walls and across the blocks that separated them.
“Not that one. The one in Manhattan. We think—” Carter winced. “Some people think Enzo had a sideline, probably selling drugs or other contraband on his own and laundering the money through your gallery. Maybe even passing the goods that way.”
“The bastard.” Rica very carefully placed her wineglass on a stone coaster that sat all alone next to the pizza box. “We were about to have an accountant go over the books.”
Carter shook her head. “He’s not that dumb. You might have found a few irregularities, but I’m sure he didn’t leave a paper trail.” She looked pained. “Of course, that wasn’t about to stop our illustrious leader from looking for one.”
“You’ve been watching the gallery,” Rica said accusingly. “God, is there no end to this?”
“I wasn’t watching it, but it’s been watched, yes.” Carter put her glass next to Rica’s and took her hands. She automatically smoothed her thumbs back and forth over the tops of Rica’s fingers as she held them in her palms. “Have you talked to your father in the last day?”
“No. I’ve been traveling. My return was sudden. He doesn’t even know that I’m back.”
“So you weren’t due to come back today,” Carter said, just to be sure.
“No. Not until the day after tomorrow.”
“I don’t know all the details, Rica, but there was a fire in the Manhattan gallery. I doubt there’ll be any records for anyone to find.”
Rica leapt up. “A fire! My God.” She stared at Carter. “What about the inventory? The artwork?”
“I don’t know. I just heard myself.”
“I need to call my father. My father will know.”
“Wait a minute,” Carter said as Rica fumbled in her briefcase for her phone. “There’s something else you need to know.”
“What more could there be?”
“We think Enzo’s dead. A car accident early this morning.”
Rica blinked and stared, then dropped the briefcase on the floor. Wordlessly, she sat down again next to Carter and curled her fingers around Carter’s thigh just above her knee. Her hand trembled and Carter slid an arm around her shoulders.
“You okay?” Carter said after a full moment of silence. “Rica?”
“My father sent me away. Me and Angie. So no one would be at the gallery this week. So we would be far away when something…happened.” She stared at Carter, her eyes dark with pain. “That was the reason for the trip, wasn’t it?”
“I don’t know, baby.” Carter skimmed her fingers through Rica’s hair and kissed her softly on the lips. “I don’t know, and this is one thing you don’t want to know.”
“But you knew. You knew if you sent that picture what he would do.”
Carter shook her head. “I didn’t know. I didn’t know how much he loved you.” She took a deep breath. “I only knew what I would do if I were him.”
“What? What would you do?”
“I’d make sure Enzo never did anything to hurt you again, in any way.”
“You’re a cop, Carter. Cops don’t work that way.” Rica raised their joined hands and rubbed her cheek against Carter’s. The warmth comforted her.
“I’m not a cop anymore.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I quit.”
“I…you…why?”
“You know why. Don’t make me say it, when you already told me you don’t want to hear it.”
For a second Rica looked perplexed, then she shook her head violently. “For me? No. I can’t let you do that for me.”
“Not just for you.” Carter freed one hand and stroked Rica’s face. Her fingers trembled as violently as Rica’s. “For me too. For whatever’s left of my sanity.”
While Rica struggled to take in everything she was hearing, she found herself more and more drawn to the way Carter’s lips curved as she spoke. To the strength of the fingers holding hers. To the pulse that raced in Carter’s throat. Her brain was on overload but her body was singularly focused. “I want you to make love to me.”
“Rica.” Carter willed herself not to move, because everything in her wanted to take Rica into her arms. “You’ll be sorry later, and that will kill me.”
“No,” Rica whispered. “I won’t.” She leaned into Carter, drawing Carter’s arms around her. She nuzzled Carter’s neck and kissed the soft skin of her collarbone. “I’ve never been sorry that you’ve touched me. Ever.”
“I’m going to take you home. We’ll talk some more in the morning.”
“On one condition.”
Carter grinned wearily. “I’m not sure I want to hear this.”
Rica kissed her again, possessively this time, her mouth searing over Carter’s. “I want you to stay the night with me.”
“I don’t know why I ever think I’ll figure you out.” Carter tilted her head back so Rica could kiss her way down her throat. “Because I’m always wrong.”
“Is that so bad?” Rica murmured as she nibbled on Carter’s neck.
Carter groaned, her legs shifting restlessly as pleasure rushed through her. “Christ no. It’s good. Very good.”
Chapter Thirty-One
It was close to nine p.m. by the time Rica and Carter collected the rest of Rica’s luggage from the airport and reached Rica’s place.
“Let me get some air in here,” Rica said on her way through the living room to open the windows. “I’ve forgotten how good it feels to come home.”
“It’s a nice change to be here when one or the other of us isn’t banged up,” Carter said.
“Isn’t it.” Rica smiled at Carter over her shoulder. “Would you mind taking the lighter stuff up to my bedroom? I’ll be up in just a second.”
“Ah—” Carter wasn’t sure the bedroom was going to be such a wise choice. She couldn’t even look at Rica without aching to touch her.
“I’ve been traveling since five this morning and I want a shower.” Rica crossed to Carter, who stood surrounded by luggage, and kissed her. “And forgive me for saying this, not that I really mind, but you smell like you’ve been working all day and might like one too.”
Carter grinned. “Is that some kind of half-assed come-on?”
“No,” Rica said as she slowly ran her tongue down Carter’s neck. “It’s an invitation to take a shower with me.”
Carter felt her knees weaken and her stomach flutter. “I thought we agreed—”
“No,” Rica said once more. She pulled Carter’s T-shirt from her jeans, slid her hand underneath, and pressed her palm low on Carter’s belly while her fingers skimmed beneath the waistband of her pants. “We didn’t agree to anything. I asked you to make love to me and you wanted to wait.” She knelt, bumping the largest piece of luggage with her hip to move it out of the way, and unbuttoned Carter’s jeans. “We didn’t discuss me making love to you.” She slid down the zipper, opened the denim, and kissed the soft skin at the base of Carter’s belly.
“Rica…” Carter whispered, her thighs trembling. She knew there were things they should discuss. She knew there were dozens of reasons they should stop. She knew…she knew…she couldn’t think. “I want you so much.”
Rica brushed her cheek against Carter’s stomach and wrapped her arms tightly around her hips. She closed her eyes. “I know. Me too. I’ve been crazy all week thinking about you.”
Carter bent and gently grasped Rica’s shoulders, guiding her upward. She folded her in her arms and kissed her, slowly and deeply. She felt Rica’s hands delve under the back of her T-shirt, one hand racing up and down her spine and the other diving into her pants to squeeze her ass. Carter pressed her thigh between Rica’s legs and heard her moan. The sound of Rica’s excitement cut through her like a scythe slicing ripe wheat, and as her resistance fell beneath the onslaught of unbearable pleasure, she unbuttoned Rica’s blouse. Rica cried out when Carter dipped beneath the satin cup of her bra to close her fingers around Rica’s bre
ast.
“Too hard?” Carter gasped.
“No,” Rica moaned. “I like it hard. I like to feel your hands on me.” She dragged her hand around Carter’s side, her nails leaving faint red lines in their wake, and pushed her fingers into the open vee of Carter’s jeans. She moaned again when she encountered no other barriers, only Carter, swollen and hot and wet. “Oh my God.”
“Don’t.” Carter slammed one hand over her crotch, trapping Rica’s hand beneath the denim. “Don’t touch me there.”
“Oh, baby why?” Rica’s voice was a plaintive plea. Her eyes were wild, her lips shining with their kisses, her breasts tight and firm in Carter’s palm. “I want to. Oh God, I want you so badly.”
Carter swayed, half undressed, vision hazy, her stomach knotted with excitement. “I want us to make love in bed.” Her breath came in irregular spurts and she struggled not to come beneath the pressure of Rica’s fingertips. “I want you to make me come slow, while I’m looking into your eyes. I want to see you when I—” She groaned and closed her eyes when Rica’s fingers twitched over her clitoris. “Please.”
“All right,” Rica panted, pressing her face to Carter’s chest. “All right, darling. Slow. I’ll try. I’ll try.” She laughed shakily. “I’m usually not like this.”
“No.” Carter gazed down through half-closed lids to where Rica’s arm disappeared into her jeans. “Neither am I.”
Rica leaned into Carter, one arm around her waist to steady herself as she pulled her hand from Carter’s jeans. “Maybe we should take that shower and cool off.”
Carter kissed Rica’s cheek, then the corner of her mouth. “Shower sounds good. But nothing’s going to cool me off.”
“Even better.”
*
The sheets were cool and crisp against Carter’s heated skin. She lay facing Rica as they kissed and caressed, their legs entwined, her sex pressed tightly to the smooth skin of Rica’s thigh.
“Are you okay?” Rica asked quietly.
“Never better in my life.” Carter massaged Rica’s breasts, rhythmically brushing over her nipples until they grew impossibly hard.
