The Target

by Gerri Hill

  “Was there someone else for you? For him?”

  “Oh, he’s had women all along. I’m sure he thinks I didn’t know.” She shook her head. “Not for me. There was just the one time.” She met Sara’s eyes. “And I should have told you years ago. There just didn’t seem to be a purpose. He was already dead.”

  “Tell me about him,” Sara said quietly. “When did you meet?”

  Her mother’s eyes turned dreamy and she closed them for a moment. Sara waited while her mother remembered.

  “It was our first or second year of marriage, I guess. Your father had—I’m sorry, Peter had just joined the law firm and was working seventy, eighty hours a week. We seldom saw each other.” She smiled at Sara. “I told you once I was a professional student. Well, I was taking grad classes. He was a young professor. I think it was love at first sight. I was completely enamored by him. He was all the things your father wasn’t.” She closed her eyes. “I’m sorry . . . Peter wasn’t.”

  “It’s okay. I’ve spent thirty years thinking of him as my father.”

  “But I should have had the courage to tell you the truth.”

  “You’re telling me the truth now. Finish your story. He was all the things . . . your husband wasn’t,” Sara stated quietly.

  “Peter was always handsome but he had that aristocratic air about him. He was always so controlled, so refined. Bryan—his name was Bryan—was charming and mischievous, and he made me laugh. It just felt good to be around him, you know. One of those kinds of people. You just want to embrace them.”

  Sara nodded. “Yes, I know.”

  “But of course I was married and Bryan knew it. So we flirted harmlessly. Or what we thought was harmless. We were actually falling in love.” She shook her head. “But I couldn’t. Peter had such huge aspirations for his life, our life. Even then, he was planning his political future. He was a brilliant trial lawyer and he was quickly making a name for himself. And he was worming his way into the inner circle of the very rich and powerful of this state. And I knew my place. So an affair with Bryan was out of the question.”

  “Divorce?”

  “A divorce would be seen as a failure and Peter could not afford any failures in his life. No, I knew he would never allow it.”

  “But you obviously did have an affair with Bryan.”

  She nodded, her eyes softening. “We were out on a picnic after class one day. A thunderstorm caught us. We were soaking wet by the time we made it back.” She laughed. “I knew right then it would happen. He lived in this small cottage right by campus.” She took Sara’s hand, squeezing tightly. “Oh, Sara, it was the most beautiful thing. We spent hours together. And afterward, when I knew I had to leave, he told me he loved me.” She shook her head. “But I couldn’t tell him. I had no right to tell him. I was married to another man.”

  “But you did love him.”

  “Oh, yes. He owned my heart. But Peter owned my life,” she said sadly.

  “So that’s when you got pregnant?”

  She nodded. “Yes. It never occurred to me to use protection and I wasn’t on any birth control. Peter wanted us to have two children. I mean, what politician doesn’t have kids? But I never got pregnant. I assumed it was me, not Peter. So I was quite surprised when I missed my first period.” She met Sara’s eyes. “Shocked. Scared. In my heart, I knew it was Bryan’s. But I broke the news to Peter one night over a bottle of champagne. He was very excited, I remember.”

  “When did you tell Bryan?”

  “I waited until the semester was over. He asked if he was the father. I told him no.” She looked away. “I think I broke his heart that day.”

  “So you didn’t see him after that?”

  “I saw him occasionally around campus. He always told me how beautiful I looked pregnant,” she said softly. “It was on those occasions that he broke my heart.”

  Sara stood and walked to the window, looking out into the sunshine. She wasn’t sure what she was feeling. Her heart ached for a man she didn’t even know existed until a few days ago. She turned back to her mother.

  “You should have told him.”

  “I know, Sara. But I couldn’t. And as it turns out, I didn’t have to. I think he knew all along. A few months after you were born, he came to see me. He took one look at you and burst into tears,” she whispered. “There was no doubt you were his child.” She cleared her throat. “Everyone always commented that you got Peter’s blue eyes.” She slowly shook her head. “Bryan’s eyes used to turn the color of the ocean sometimes. Blue, with a hint of green. Just like yours.”

  Sara closed her eyes, nearly embarrassed by the tears she was shedding for a man she never met. A man who, as it turned out, was her father.

  “I’m sorry, Sara. I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough. Bryan would have made a wonderful husband . . . and a terrific father. But I wasn’t strong enough to make a change.”

  Sara nodded. “How did he die?”

  “It was a car accident. It happened . . . it happened on your first birthday. When I heard the news, I thought how terribly ironic it was.”

  “But it was no accident,” Sara stated.

  “Apparently not. It never occurred to me that Peter knew. All these years, it never once occurred to me. And even then that he would go so far as to have him killed. I just can’t believe it.”

  Sara gave a humorless laugh. “Well, believe it. Because the man chasing us in the mountains was very real.” Sara walked to the window again and stared out. “One of our group was shot down right in front of us. Sandra.” A sad smile crossed her face. “One minute talking and laughing, the next, laying there dead within the blink of an eye.” Sara turned back around. “That’s how I was supposed to die.” She cleared her throat. “I’m almost sorry he didn’t end up like Dodds.”

  Her mother shook her head. “Believe me, this humiliation he’s suffering is far worse than death. Everything he’s worked his whole life for, all the plans he made, all of it gone. He always wanted to be the headline story on CNN. Now he is.”

  Sara moved back to the bed and sat down again. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her thighs, her hands clasped lightly together.

  “What will you do now, Mother? Will you stay at the complex?”

  “No. I doubt I’ll even go back there to pack.” She smiled. “I need someplace new, someplace where he’s never been. Perhaps Arthur might choose to accompany me. I haven’t been on my own in so many years, I don’t even know how to run a household.”

  “I think Arthur will agree to go with you. He was very concerned about you. If not for him, the FBI probably wouldn’t have gotten down to the bunker.”

  “Yes, Arthur and I do share a fondness. But what about you, darling? What will you do? Go back to your clinic and pretend none of this happened? Do you think your clientele will abandon you?”

  “I don’t know. If it were any other women, I wouldn’t be surprised to have lawsuits pop up. But those ladies were tough as nails. We bonded as one. It was us against him. Of course the publicity will probably curb our enrollment awhile. Two shot, one killed. Can’t be good for business.”

  “It wasn’t your fault. And it had nothing to do with your business. I doubt your clinic will suffer. But what about you? I wish you had someone, Sara. You’ve always been so picky about your dates.”

  Sara laughed. “Picky?”

  “I really liked that attorney you were seeing a couple of years ago. She was very attractive.”

  Sara nodded. “Yes, she was. And we had absolutely nothing in common. Besides, she had political aspirations and I wanted no part of that.” Sara glanced at her mother quickly, then away. “But I . . . well, I have met someone.”

  “You have? Why haven’t you told me?”

  Sara stood and again walked to the window. “I just met her recently.” She turned around and shoved her hands into her pockets as she watched her mother. “She’s a detective. She pretended to be an injured hiker and she was sort of absorb
ed into our group.”

  “What do you mean pretended?”

  “It’s a complicated story. She thought the FBI had assigned her to watch me, when in fact it was just a ploy to get her to lead the sniper to me.”

  “Oh my.”

  “We became lovers.”

  “Oh my.”

  Sara smiled slightly. “I’m a little frightened by what I feel. I mean, there was an attraction between us long before the sniper showed himself. But I don’t know if what transpired after that was a result of the circumstances we were in or if it’s true, you know?”

  “Oh, I see. You were in extreme danger and you reached out for her, is that it? You needed an emotional attachment of some sort and she was available?”

  “I don’t know if that’s the case or not.” She walked back to the bed, meeting her mother’s eyes. “Is it possible to fall in love with someone so quickly?”

  He mother smiled gently and reached to take her hand. “You think you might be in love with her?”

  “She makes me laugh.” Sara smiled. “And she’s a storyteller. And she got my group of conservative women to strip naked— twice—and jump in hot springs.” Sara blushed. “And I took one look at her and nearly melted on the spot.”

  “What about her, Sara? Have you talked about it?”

  “No, we haven’t talked about it. We’re having dinner Saturday night. At my place,” she added.

  “Then don’t try to analyze it, Sara. Just see where it goes. If it was just the circumstances, you’ll know soon enough.”

  Sara nodded, remembering the way her body reacted when Jaime kissed her. No, she didn’t want it to be just the circumstances. But how were they to get to know each other? After the close quarters they’d shared, after all they’d been through, she thought they were past the dating stage. And dinner? She didn’t want to have dinner. She wanted to get Jaime naked and make love with her. She blushed slightly, then turned away, but not before hearing the quiet laugh of her mother.

  “Sara?”

  “Hmm?”

  “What’s her name?”

  Sara smiled as she met her mother’s eyes. “Jaime.”

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  Jaime couldn’t believe her nervousness as she stood by her car. Sara’s home was quite impressive, the quiet neighborhood landscaped with spruce trees and boulders, a view of the western mountains not marred by the cityscape at all. It was nice. And Jaime was still nervous.

  She rubbed her damp palms together then stepped on the sidewalk, walking slowly to the front door. She didn’t know what to expect from Sara, maybe that’s why she was anxious. They’d talked on the phone nearly every day, but still, they’d not talked about them.

  “Are you stalling?”

  Jaime jumped, startled, as Sara stood at the door, holding it open. “Jesus, you about gave me a heart attack.” Jaime held her hand to her chest dramatically. “I hope you know CPR.”

  Sara smiled. “I know mouth-to-mouth exceptionally well.”

  Jaime’s heart literally skipped a beat as their eyes met. She didn’t know which frightened her more. The uncertainty of their relationship or the look in Sara’s eyes.

  “Need me to show you?” Sara teased.

  “Yes, please.”

  Sara’s smile faded as she drew Jaime to her, their mouths meeting slowly, tenderly, reacquainting themselves after a week’s absence. Sara’s body did what it always did when Jaime kissed her. It melted.

  Jaime pulled away while she still could, before her hands finished their journey to Sara’s breasts. Her heart pounded in her ears and she tried to catch her breath.

  “I love the way you kiss me,” Sara whispered.

  Jaime met her eyes. “I missed you.”

  Sara nodded. “I missed you too.”

  “I was a little afraid,” Jaime admitted.

  Sara nodded again. “Me too.”

  Jaime smiled. “Good. Glad we got that out of the way.”

  Sara laughed. “Come inside. I don’t need to give the neighbors anything more to talk about.”

  “Why? Do you often kiss strange women on your doorstep?” Jaime asked as she followed Sara.

  “Are you strange, sweetheart?”

  Jaime stumbled, the endearment causing her heart to miss a beat. “Sara?”

  Sara stopped and turned, her own heart jumping wildly in her chest as she met the intense stare from Jaime.

  “Hmm?”

  Jaime swallowed nervously. “Would it be terribly forward of me to . . . well to suggest that we delay . . . delay dinner?”

  Sara felt her heart race, pounding in her chest, nearly choking the breath from her. She walked closer to Jaime, her hand sliding up Jaime’s stomach, resting between her breasts.

  “You want to make love?” she whispered.

  “Yes, please,” Jaime breathed.

  Sara closed her eyes for a second, then moved her hand a few inches to cup Jaime’s breast.

  “Me too.”

  Jaime moaned as Sara’s hand squeezed her breast then she bent her head, capturing Sara’s mouth. Their kisses were no longer gentle. Tongues battled frantically as hands touched flesh. Jaime was pleasantly surprised to find no bra in her way.

  “Do you have any idea what you do to me?” Sara murmured against Jaime’s mouth. “I swear, I lose all control when you touch me.”

  Sara moved away and stripped off her shirt, exposing her breasts to Jaime’s greedy eyes. Without a word, she took Jaime’s hand and led her up the five steps to the split-level and into her bedroom. She didn’t bother with the covers. She drew Jaime to the bed, her hands shoving between her legs, cupping her through her jeans. She wanted her. She couldn’t control this wild hunger she had. She had ached with it all week. She wanted her now and her fingers were frantic as they shoved inside her jeans. Her tongue pushed against Jaime’s and she moaned when she felt her flesh, hot and wet to her touch.

  Jaime lay back, sensing Sara’s need for her. She unbuttoned her jeans, giving Sara room. Her legs parted, ready for her.

  Sara plunged inside of her, deep and hard, and Jaime surged up to meet her, her hips undulating against Sara’s fingers. Sara pulled out, sliding through her wetness, moving over her like silk and she stroked her faster and faster until she felt Jaime arch hard against her fingers. She captured Jaime’s mouth, catching the scream as Jaime climaxed.

  Perspiration dampened her brow and she closed her eyes, shocked by her need, shocked by her aggressiveness. She let her head rest on Jaime’s chest, smiling as she realized they were both still mostly clothed.

  “I wanted you,” she murmured. “I swear, I have ached for you.”

  Jaime rolled them over, pinning Sara beneath her. Her knees spread Sara’s thighs, their jeans rubbing together as they strained to get close.

  “You have no idea what ache is,” Jaime whispered.

  Jaime knelt between Sara’s legs, her fingers quickly working to unbutton Sara’s jeans. She pulled them down, then struggled to kick her own off as Sara worked the buttons on Jaime’s shirt. They were a tangled mess and Sara laughed in frustration.

  “Christ, can you get naked already?”

  “I’m trying. God, I’m trying,” Jaime said, finally freeing her buttons and tossing the shirt on the floor. She paused, her eyes finding Sara’s. Soft, gentle smiles formed, then Sara slowly reached out, her fingers brushing Jaime’s nipple.

  “So beautiful,” she whispered.

  Jaime took Sara’s hand, bringing the fingers to her mouth. She kissed them softly, her tongue wetting them. She felt Sara tremble.

  “Let me love you.”

  Sara nodded numbly, lying back and pulling Jaime to her. She spread her legs, then moaned quietly as Jaime settled between them. Her eyes drifted closed as Jaime’s soft mouth moved across her throat, finally finding her lips. As always, Jaime’s kisses simply rendered her powerless. Their mouths moved together, tongues slowly, lightly caressing. Sara nearly whimpered when Jaime pulled away, her m
outh going again to her throat, gently nibbling at the pulse that pounded there. Sara held her close and brushed her fingers through Jaime’s hair, guiding Jaime to her breast.

  Jaime’s mouth covered her, her tongue raking lightly across the swollen nipple. Sara moaned and Jaime bit down gently.

  “God, Jaime,” she breathed, arching her hips against Jaime’s thigh.

  Jaime released her nipple and found her mouth again. Kisses no longer gentle, their mouths fought for control. Jaime moved her hand between them, sliding down Sara’s body, seeking and finding the wetness she knew would greet her. Her knee forced Sara’s thighs apart and she entered her, watching Sara’s face as it transformed in pleasure, her own eyes finally sliding shut as Sara enveloped her.

  “Jaime . . . please,” Sara whispered, her hips moving, meeting each thrust of Jaime’s hand. “Please . . . your mouth. I want your mouth to take me.” She was so near orgasm but she simply craved the feel of Jaime’s mouth—and tongue—upon her. Her hips slowed and she urged Jaime downward.

  Jaime let her fingers slip from Sara. Their eyes met and Jaime watched Sara’s turn from blue to green, watched as she still struggled to catch her breath.

  “Please,” Sara whispered again.

  As their eyes held, Jaime felt a connection with Sara that she’d never experienced with another person before. A connection so strong and pure, it nearly stopped her heart. She nodded weakly, her hands already pushing Sara’s legs apart. She was trembling as she gathered Sara to her, her hands cupping Sara’s hips, bringing her to her mouth. She groaned when she tasted her and her mouth opened, moving over Sara’s hard clit, sucking it into her mouth. Her tongue swirled over it, back and forth, trying to hold on as Sara’s hips bucked against her face.

  Sara foolishly thought she was in control, thought she could set the pace but she lost all power over her body. She knew she was nearly delirious, knew her mouth was opened as she struggled to draw breath, knew her hips were moving wildly against Jaime’s hot mouth but surrender was all she could do. With her head flung back and her fists grasping the comforter, she held on while Jaime nearly devoured her like a starving woman. Jaime’s shoulders pushed against her, driving her legs apart, moving her farther up the bed with the force of her desire.