Текст книги "Deception Cove"
Автор книги: Jayne Krentz
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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 18 страниц)
Chapter 19
THE SOUND OF THE DOOR OPENING AND CLOSING brought Alice out of a restless sleep. She came awake on a hot tide of energy, leaping from the bed and instinctively rezzing her talent.
By the time she was fully awake she was on her feet, facing the door.
“It’s okay,” Drake said. He spoke calmly, as if her over-rezzed reaction was perfectly normal. “Houdini wanted out. He was very clear about it. I assumed it was all right so I opened the door for him.”
She felt the energy level rise a little in the atmosphere and knew that Drake had jacked up his talent so that he could see her. If he found that necessary, it meant she was doing a fade.
She took a deep breath and dropped back into her normal senses. She had to give Drake credit, she thought. Most men would have freaked at the sight of a woman jumping out of bed and disappearing into thin air. But it would take a lot to make Drake freak.
“Sure, that’s fine,” she said. “I told you, he often goes out at night. He’ll be back before dawn.” She hesitated. “Sorry about the disappearing act a minute ago.”
“No problem.”
Drake rezzed the lock and moved toward the chair in front of the window. He was wearing the trousers and clean T-shirt that he had produced from his pack. For her part she was still in the long-sleeved black pullover and the black trousers she had stuffed into her own pack. In the morning she was going to have to do some hand washing in the bathroom sink.
Earlier she had stretched out on top of the bed to get some sleep. She had expected Drake to settle down beside her. The bed was certainly large enough for two. It should not have been any more complicated than sitting back-to-back until dawn last night, she thought. Then again, maybe it would have been more complicated. Something about a bed changed things. In any event, Drake had insisted on dozing in the reading chair, his feet propped on the small hassock.
He came to a stop in front of the window and looked at her. “Good thing no one can see either of us now. We’re not exactly dressed like honeymooners, are we?”
She wrinkled her nose. “No, but we’re not your typical honeymooning couple.”
“And Rainshadow is not your typical honeymoon destination.”
“It certainly is for me,” Alice said.
“There is a pattern developing,” Drake conceded.
They both smiled. Alice relaxed somewhat.
Drake looked at her for a moment longer and then turned away to contemplate the night on the other side of the window. “The fog has gotten a lot heavier in the past hour.”
“It’s midnight.” She came to stand beside him. “According to the legends, they used to call this time of night the witching hour on the Old World.”
“This is the paranormal equivalent of high noon. If you don’t understand the science of para-physics, the effects can look a lot like magic.”
They stood together in the sphere of golden light produced by the amber lantern and looked out at the darkness.
Alice folded her arms. “It’s not nearly as bad as it was last night in the cove,” she said. “It helps being indoors.”
“It also helps that this sector of the island isn’t nearly as hot as the Deception Cove region.”
“But this area will get hotter if we don’t find Zara Tucker and those missing crystals.”
“We’ll find her,” Drake said.
“Good.”
“And then we’ll take care of Ethel Whitcomb.”
“Excellent.”
“Alice?”
“Yes?”
“About that kiss in the garage after we got our MC papers.”
She went very still. “I thought we agreed to pretend it never happened.”
“That was your plan, not mine. I’ve never been very good at pretending. I’m more of a facts-on-the-ground kind of guy.”
“You’re the guy in the audience who can’t enjoy the magic because he’s always trying to figure out how it’s done.”
“Yeah, that’s me, the boring guy who just wants to know what’s real and what isn’t.”
She pursed her lips, uncertain how to react to the edge on his words.
“That’s not quite what I meant,” she said.
“That kiss in the garage felt real to me. Just wondered how it felt on your end.”
“It wasreal.” She unfolded her arms and spread her hands wide. “I never said it wasn’t. But a kiss is just a kiss.”
In the shadows she could see that his mouth was etched with amusement. “Why does that sound familiar?”
“I have no idea. Look, what I’m trying to say is, it’s the reasonI kissed you that’s complicated.”
“Has it occurred to you that you’re the one who’s making it complicated? There is such a thing as overanalyzing.”
She stared at him in disbelief. “This from the facts-on-the-ground man?”
He put his hands on her shoulders. “Let’s just stick to what we know to be true.”
“Which is?”
“That kiss in the garage was a really interesting kiss,” he said.
“It was?” She was suddenly a little breathless.
“Very high-rez,” Drake said. “At least, that’s how it felt on my end.”
“It was sort of over the top, wasn’t it?” She frowned. “I really can’t explain that aspect of things. I mean, there was the stress factor and all, but, generally speaking, that’s not my usual style when it comes to kissing.”
“What is your usual style?”
“I’m not sure I’ve got one, to be honest. I’ve been told I’m repressed.”
“Repressed.”
“I’m unable to commit emotionally to a relationship,” she explained. “Therefore I can’t really enjoy sex. Something to do with a combination of abandonment issues and my weird para-psych profile.”
“Who told you that?”
“A para-psychologist. After I got rejected by three matchmaking agencies it was suggested that I seek counseling.”
“Did the shrink offer any guidance?”
“He suggested sex therapy. With him. I declined.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Drake said. “Can I ask why you declined?”
“There were little velvet handcuffs and small whips involved. I’m not opposed to little velvet handcuffs and small whips in principle, you understand. At least, I don’t think I am. I haven’t actually tried any of those things. But somehow in that particular context they did not appeal.”
“That particular context being the para-shrink’s office?” Drake asked.
“And the fact that he was in a Marriage of Convenience,” she said. “That sort of pissed me off, if you want to know the truth. Sure, it was just an MC, not a full Covenant Marriage, but an MC is supposed to be some sort of a commitment, isn’t it? At least while it lasts?”
“Yes,” Drake said. “It’s supposed to be a commitment while it lasts. Mind if I turn off the lantern?”
She stilled. “Okay.”
He de-rezzed the lamp, plunging the room into darkness. But this was normal darkness and with her talent she could see well enough to make out shadows and shapes. She knew exactly when Drake removed his glasses and set them down on the table because she could see his eyes. They were psi-hot with a silvery energy that made her catch her breath.
“And while we’re on the subject,” he said, “I’d like to say that you’re wrong about not having a style. Judging by that garage kiss, your style is very high-rez.”
“Thanks, but I’m pretty sure it was just an anomaly.” Her voice sounded husky, even to her own ears. “I mean, I’ve never kissed anyone like that before in my whole life. Doubt if I ever will again.”
“Let’s run an experiment and see what happens.”
She stared at him, dazed. “You really want to do this?”
“Oh, yeah,” he said. “More than anything else in the world.”
“Well, okay, but just so you know, according to my para-psych profile, I’m not a very passionate person by nature.”
“A number of people have labeled me as cold-blooded.”
“Your competitors and business rivals, no doubt.” She braced her hands on his shoulders. “That’s not quite the same thing as sexually repressed.”
“You know what? I don’t give a damn about our para-psych profiles right now.”
She sucked in a deep breath and took the leap.
“Neither do I,” she said. “I mean, how bad could it be if we had sex?”
“That’s it, think positive.”
He took her mouth, slowly, deliberately, completely. This time he was fully in charge of the kiss. He was not asking for a response; he was seducing one from her.
This was not the reckless wildfire of a kiss that she had ignited in the parking garage when she had gone a little crazy. This was an intense, smoldering kiss infused with the energy of Drake’s talent.
There was definitely nothing cold-blooded about this kiss, she thought. A thrilling rush of heat swirled in the atmosphere and sizzled in her blood. This kiss was warming all the cold places inside her, setting fire to her senses. That made it a truly dangerous kiss, and the full measure of the peril in which she found herself was that, in that moment, she did not give a damn about the potentially disastrous aftermath. She would worry about the fallout later.
There was always time to regret a mistake, but a woman did not often get an opportunity to make a mistake as exciting as this one promised to be.
She closed her hands very tightly around Drake’s shoulders and let the raw power of the kiss sweep through her.
Drake tightened his hold on her until she was pressed so intimately against him she could feel the fiercely rigid outline of his erection through the fabric of their clothing. Everything about him was hard and compellingly male. His scent stirred things deep inside her. She wanted him in ways she had never wanted any man. Most of all she wanted to leave her mark on him. When this was over she wanted him to remember her.
Maybe in the future he would think of her as that woman in the parking garage, the one he’d zapped giant bugs with one memorable night. But that was better than having him forget her.
She felt his hands slide down her rib cage until his fingers settled around her waist under the pullover. He was so much bigger and stronger than she was. More to the point, he could see her even when she did her disappearing act, rendering her primary defense mechanism useless. She was here with him tonight only because he believed she could help solve the problem on Rainshadow—a problem she had helped cause. It was hardly the most romantic reason for a one-night stand.
All things considered, she probably should have locked herself in the bathroom. Instead she was locked in a senses-searing embrace.
There would be a price to pay later but not tonight. Tonight was about learning to fly.
He seized the hem of the black pullover and hauled it upward, tugging it over her head. He tossed the garment over the back of the chair, then reached behind her and unsnapped the clasp of her bra. He added the lingerie to the growing pile of discarded clothing.
At that point he paused, closed his powerful hands around her waist, and looked at her.
“You are perfect,” he said. His voice was rough around the edges and his eyes were molten. “So perfect.”
That was not true, she thought, but it was very sweet of him to say it. No one else had ever said those words to her.
Tears filled her eyes. She blinked them away and managed a misty smile. “Not perfect, but thank you.”
He tightened his hands around her waist and lifted her straight off her feet and into the air. Suddenly she was dangling above him, looking down into his blazing eyes. Startled, she instinctively clutched his shoulder with one hand to steady herself and used her other hand to push her hair out of her face.
“What the heck?” she gasped.
“You are perfect,” he repeated. “Perfect for me.”
The words sounded more like a vow than a simple statement.
Delight flooded her senses. She loved the feeling of his strong shoulders. She laughed and kicked her feet a little in midair.
“That’s good,” she said. “That’s very good. Because I have to tell you that you are perfect for me, too.”
“That’s good,” he said. “That’s very good.”
She could not see him clearly enough in the deep shadows to be certain of his expression, but she could hear the wickedly male smile that edged the words.
He carried her across the room and set her on her feet beside the bed. She was shivering with the thrill of what was happening. She grabbed the headboard to steady herself while Drake yanked aside the faded bedspread and quilt.
In an effort to show that she was not just a passenger on this high-risk ride, she fumbled with the fastening of her pants but for some reason her fingers were not functioning properly.
Drake caught her wrists and put her arms around his neck. He went to work getting her out of her pants.
“Just hang on to me,” he whispered into her ear. “I’ll take care of the details. I’m good with details.”
“I know,” she said.
He stripped her pants and panties down over her hips and let the clothes fall to her ankles. His hands closed around the curves of her rear. He squeezed gently, flexing his fingers. She heard him groan. The sound came from somewhere deep inside, a low, husky growl of raw male desire. The knowledge that he wanted her so fiercely sent her into the hot zone. She was already wet and he had not even touched her down there.
Energy danced in the atmosphere. There was power in the room—hers as well as his. Her senses sparked and flashed the way they had in the parking garage. She was suddenly free in a way she had never before experienced. She kissed Drake’s throat, inhaling his scent, and grabbed the bottom edge of his T-shirt. He laughed a little when she practically tore off his shirt and flung it aside.
She flattened her palms on his chest. He was hard and sleek and very warm to the touch. She knew that some of the heat was paranormal in nature. He was running hot. The wavelengths generated by sexual desire came from the paranormal as well as the normal ends of the spectrum—the more one was aroused, the more heat infused the aura.
Not that it took psychic talent to recognize serious lust in a man. But if a woman happened to have a fair amount of paranormal sensitivity, the fires of a very strong passion were all the more evident. Alice looked into Drake’s eyes and glimpsed the cauldron that burned below the surface. Heat lightning flashed through her. She had this effect on him. Her sense of her own feminine power acted like an aphrodisiac.
Dazed and nearly euphoric with excitement and an aching anticipation, she wrapped her hands around Drake’s neck and kissed him with all the sultry energy that was shuddering through her.
“That’s it,” he said. “That’s what I’ve been waiting for. That’s what I want from you. That’s what I need.”
He lifted her out of her clothing, swung her around, and set her on the bed. She pulled up the sheet to cover her lower body and braced herself on her elbows to watch him undress. He made short work of getting out of his pants and briefs.
He came to her fully, heavily aroused, his body hot with the psi-fever of desire. She was wet and achingly full and clenched. A great sense of urgency tightened everything inside her.
Drake stretched out on top of her, bracing himself on his arms, caging her on the bed. He kissed her mouth and then her throat and then her breasts. When she struggled, trying to make him move more quickly, he used his greater strength to gently overwhelm her, forcing her to let him set the pace. His hands went lower, finding the damp, hot, throbbing place between her legs.
He eased one finger inside her and then another. She moaned and clawed at his shoulders. She took a savage feminine satisfaction in discovering that his back was slick with sweat. The act of self-restraint was not easy for him. He was paying a price.
He found the tight bud at the top of her sex with his thumb and pressed upward. She gasped and clamped herself around him, straining for more, demanding more.
He stroked her, his mouth wet and hot on her breasts, until she sank her nails into his shoulders, until she drew up her knees and reached down to take him in her hand.
“Alice,” he groaned. “Alice.”
He abandoned the sensual battle and pushed himself slowly, carefully, into her, forging a path that stretched her so tightly she wondered if she would be able to hold him. For a moment the intense sensation hovered on the thrilling borderline between pain and pleasure. She was not sure which would prevail.
“So damn good,” he got out on a grating whisper.
He rose on his elbows and began to move in and out of her in a slow, relentless cadence that maddened her senses.
It was neither pain nor pleasure that prevailed. Instead it was a deep need for something more; it was a need for release.
She raised her hips to take him deeper, her whole body clenching around him.
“Yes,” she whispered. Her nails scored his back. “Yes.”
He surged into her again and again, angling his thrusts so that he was constantly pushing against that special, swollen place just inside her, until she could not stand the mounting pressure any longer.
The climax struck in a small explosion of sensation that rippled through her in waves.
She heard Drake’s half-muffled roar of satisfaction, felt him lock into her one last time, and then the heavy waves of his release spilled into her, blistering her senses.
In that moment she could have sworn that the room was illuminated with a shimmering aurora of dark light. It ignited a breathtakingly intimate resonance between their auras. It seemed to Alice that, for a moment, she and Drake were connected in a way that seemed to defy the laws of para-physics.
Just a trick of the light,she thought.
Chapter 20
THE BASTARD WAS ON THE ISLAND. WITH A WIFE, NO LESS. It was obvious that Drake had seduced Alice North into a Marriage of Convenience to gain her cooperation. It was too much.
Zara Tucker snatched up the nearest object—a small green quartz bowl—and hurled it against the nearest green quartz wall. There was a sharp crack of sound when the indestructible dish struck the impervious quartz wall.
The bowl dropped to the quartz floor, undamaged. The wall showed no evidence of the impact. Nothing humans had ever devised, not even heavy earth-moving machinery, could put so much as a dent in the psi-infused quartz. The Aliens had used the stone to construct not only many small artifacts like the bowl but also entire cities and the network of catacombs beneath the surface of Harmony.
Zara ignored the bowl on the floor and started to pace the vast underground cavern. Nothing had gone right since the two-story pyramid that occupied most of the space had begun to overheat. The energy coming off the Dream Chamber was now so intense she knew it was only a matter of time before it exploded.
At first she had been convinced that she could shut down the process. But after several attempts using her two research assistants, she was now forced to accept the reality of the situation. It was infuriating to realize that she—the brilliant Dr. Zara Tucker—had made a terrible mistake by inserting only two of the Keys. The result was a chain reaction of unstable paranormal energy that had gone undetected until a few weeks ago.
It was only after the dark fog had developed that she had been forced to acknowledge that the energy inside the pyramid was affecting the ocean currents, tides, and weather around the island. And now the wildlife as well.
The arrival of Harry Sebastian a few weeks ago had thrown her into a near panic, but she had hoped that he would leave after he discovered one of the Keys. Instead he had not only remained on the island, he had opened up an investigation into the bizarre changes that were affecting everything inside the Preserve.
Whatever was happening inside the pyramid had reached a critical point. The fog had settled in with a vengeance, cutting off the island from the outside world. Sebastian and Attridge were evidently trapped somewhere inside the Preserve along with the Glorious Dawn crowd. At least they would not be a problem now. If the disorienting effects of the fog did not send them plunging into a crevasse or one of the flooded caves to be devoured by the bizarre sea creatures lurking inside, sooner or later they would encounter a few of the rapidly evolving spiders and insects. It was a known fact that mag-rez pistols and other high-tech weapons were worse than useless inside the psi-fence.
So, no need to worry about Harry Sebastian and Attridge,she thought, trying to steady her nerves. That leaves the day-blind bastard and his wife.
The roiling fever of her long-festering hatred of Drake Sebastian threatened to overwhelm her. She thought she had taken her revenge. Drake did his best to keep a low profile, but as the president and CEO-in-waiting of Sebastian, Inc., he could not entirely avoid the public eye. Every time she saw a picture of him in the business pages of the newspapers or caught a video showing him at a social event or a fund-raiser, she got a rush of satisfaction.
Drake was condemned to wear the special mirrored sunglasses that were the mark of her vengeance. Every day when he faced a new dawn he was forced to remember her. For Drake, it was always night.
“I told you that you would never forget me,” she said.
A lot of high-rez talents who suffered a catastrophic loss of their para-senses plunged into deep depression. Suicide was not uncommon. So were hallucinogenic drugs. She had anticipated that Drake would self-destruct after she destroyed much of his talent. She had looked forward to watching him spiral down into a bottomless pit of despair.
Instead, he had become the man the business world called the Magician—the brilliant strategist that Sebastian, Inc. relied on to close the deal. The man who was slated to take over the family empire.
Bastard,she thought .
How he had successfully piloted a boat through the bizarre currents around the island and navigated the nightmarish fog was anyone’s guess. The only explanation was sheer luck. But not even luck could explain how Drake and Alice North had survived the night out in the open on the beach, rescued Karen Rosser, and hiked around the coastline all the way to Shadow Bay.
It was as if the universe was conspiring against her.
Nothing had gone right. The only good news was that Drake was trapped in Shadow Bay and cut off from the outside world just like everyone else in the small town.
“Just like I am.” She managed a grim smile. “We’re star-crossed lovers, you and I, Drake. If Rainshadow blows, we will die together. Wouldn’t that be romantic?”
If things went that far south, she would make certain that—come hell or nightmare fog—Drake Sebastian knew that she was the one responsible for his death and the death of everyone else on the island.
But she was far from ready to give up. In some ways, just knowing that Drake was on Rainshadow was energizing. She would find a way out of this situation. Afterward she would destroy the bastard.
No half measures next time.
