Текст книги "Within Temptation"
Автор книги: Tanya Holmes
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Текущая страница: 17 (всего у книги 19 страниц)
Together, we acknowledged the import of what we were about to do…how it would change us. How it would take our relationship to another level.
When we separated, he untied the robe with reverence. I sucked in a breath, feeling his gentle hands tour my body. He told me that I was beautiful and not to be afraid. He said he’d take his time, that we were in no hurry.
Meanwhile, I berated myself for blushing, but when the belt fell to the floor, I knew that this night, this man was my destiny.
And that I was loved.
He parted the garment and his hungry gaze rested on my breasts. He’d kissed and sucked them, but that was in the heat of passion. We were both calm now, and would enter this loving clear-eyed. Since I barely filled a B-cup, I was insecure, especially when I thought about his busty brunette friend.
My silly insecurities vanished when I saw his arousal. What used to be a non-threatening bulge, now tented his boxers with such blatant violence I stifled a gasp.
His eyes were fixed on the dark blonde tangle of silk between my legs. Up and down his chest pumped. I could hear the air rush from his flared nostrils. He was happy to see me—very happy. But self-consciousness returned, and a blush flamed my body. It compelled me to pull the robe around myself.
Trace gave his head a slow shake. “Naw. Let me look my fill.”
He brought my arms down to my sides, pushed the robe off one shoulder and moved in to capture a nipple. The ache between my legs was swift and powerful while he drew it into his mouth and sucked.
He anchored one palm at the small of my back. The other hand, he pressed against my belly, and used two fingers to stroke the place he’d stared at. The pleasure was so exquisite I couldn’t keep my eyes open.
His lips made a smacking sound when he released my nipple. It glistened beneath the light. Easing me on the bed, he fit our bodies together, side by side, and crushed his mouth to mine. As our lips did battle, he positioned me astride him. My damp hair framed his cheeks like twin curtains, while my necklace rested against his Adam’s apple. He broke the kiss, swept my hair to one side and gazed into my eyes. A muscle along his jaw trembled.
I shot him an anxious smile. “What?”
“Nothin’,” he said, husky and deep. “Just that I want to get inside you so bad my nuts ache.”
Laughter exploded from my throat and giggles spilled out of me like bubbly. Just like that, my nervous tension evaporated. After the monstrous day I’d endured, this was just what the doctor ordered.
I snuggled his neck. “Oh, my goodness,” I wheezed. “I needed that.”
“But it’s the truth,” he said in an all too quiet voice.
I raised my head, my body still shuddering with laughter. When I bent to kiss him in between giggles, he turned his face away. I blinked, stared down at him, and my laughter died. He wasn’t smiling.
“Trace? What’s wrong?”
He hesitated, his throat working. “It’s your first time. I don’t wanna screw it up.”
“How could you possibly do that?”
He ran his palms beneath the robe, over my bare bottom, and squeezed. “It’s just that…well, being near you makes me want to come.”
I swallowed, licked my lips.
“I don’t know how long I can make it last,” he said. “Understand?”
I nodded in earnest, and offered a logical solution. “Ever heard the phrase, ‘if at first you don’t succeed, try, try again’? And again, and again….”
Trace’s eyes softened and he shook his head as if I was being naughty. His smile was a slow presentation of white teeth against a backdrop of tanned flesh and dimples. “Oh, yeah,” he whispered. “That’ll work.”
He tugged my robe off, tossed it on the floor then pulled a blanket over us. Suddenly, I was on my back and Trace was on top, nudging my legs apart. He kissed his way down my stomach to the place that ached the most.
“Trace,” I gasped.
With his thumbs, he parted my folds and exposed me to his smoldering stare. I knew what he saw—wet, hot, swollen, pink flesh.
He smiled. “You got no idea how much I been aching for another taste.”
Before I knew it, he’d shoved his hands under my derrière and tugged me closer. Then he found me, throbbing and desperately hot for him. He attacked the nub his fingers had roused, drew it into his mouth like one would a straw. He was ruthless.
On and on, it went, with him taking me higher and higher, until I was close to kissing the sun. But right before I was about to burn he stopped to slowly circle his tongue around my clitoris, forcing me back down to earth.
A sob spilled out of me. “Please….”
“Soon,” he promised, drawing me back into his mouth.
Soon was another ten minutes of sweet agony. Endless minutes of him kissing, licking, and sucking—a torturous eternity that pushed my body to the very edge. Only after much begging, did he finally grant me mercy, and this time, he didn’t stop. He kept the suction going while I hovered over a precipice, waiting to fly or fall.
I circled my hips to the rhythm he set, fisted his hair, and cried his name the moment I exploded into a thousand shards. Tremors reverberated throughout my body until I wilted into the mattress, dead to the world.
Trace flicked his tongue over me one last time before he kissed his way back up my stomach to suckle my lips, soft and slow. Then he left the bed and the rocking motion stirred me from the daze I was in. My eyes drifted open, and the first thing I saw was the enormous erection straining his boxers.
I stifled a gasp. Dear God, now it was even bigger.
He slipped the waistband over his hips without preamble, and his sex sprang loose, distended and stabbing in my direction. My eyes widened. I’d felt its impressive thickness, weight, and length yesterday, but I hadn’t ‘seen it.’ And seeing made all the difference.
Memory flashed to that morning at the plaza, to the crude store clerks huddled in the corner: ‘Word has it he’s got an anaconda between his legs….’
They hadn’t exaggerated.
TRACE
____________________________
I was scared as hell. What did I know about virgins? Nada. Zip. Every woman I’d ever lain with had been experienced. Getting inside Shannon wouldn’t be easy. It was a simple matter of physics. She was tiny, and I was…bigger. I would hurt her, I knew, and this time, she’d be the one bleeding.
I took a strengthening breath, grabbed my towel from the dresser, and joined her on the bed. After I’d settled between her thighs, I couldn’t help but notice how tense she’d become. I wasn’t faring any better.
“You’re trembling,” she said, breathless.
I examined her face intently. My heart thumped to the point of pain. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
Emotion burned in her eyes. “I know.”
“And the fact that you saved yourself—”
“For you.”
My throat got tight. I cleared it, swallowed. “Well, it means a lot to me.”
She framed my face in her hands and fit her lips to mine. I kissed her back with fierce possession, just to let her know how much I treasured her. I wanted to take my time—wanted to love her good and long, but I was spike-hard, and in desperate need of the release only she could give me.
To ease the ache, I guided her fingers to my cock. I fit her tiny palm around the head, cupped my hand over hers, and whispered instructions on how to hold and caress me. She was a quick study. Her touch was light, yet effective. Didn’t take long before she had me moaning her name. My eyes trembled shut, and when I could take no more, I brushed her hand away.
I got a rubber from the nightstand and tore the packet with my teeth, but my hands shook. It took four tries, before I could cover myself.
“Wrap your legs around me,” I rasped, sliding my hips into place.
She stared up at me with trust in her eyes. “Like this?”
“Yeah, just like that.” I reached between our bodies and grasped my swollen staff, rubbing the head around her center to spread the moisture. “Now raise up,” I told her, my words hoarse, strained. Once she did, I shoved the towel beneath her bottom, then eased into her. “That’s it. Shhhh. Just like—”
I groaned when I slipped the head in, squeezing my eyes shut to fight the demands of my body. Waves of dark pleasure rippled through me. I pressed into her again, but after her flesh resisted, I withdrew.
“I’m sorry,” I said, moving my mouth over hers in apology. “So sorry….” Then without warning, I thrust into her and rent her innocence. She lurched against me, her back curving like an archer’s bow as her muffled gasp of pain filled the room. I was damn near womb-deep. So deep, I could feel her heart thrash. “Sweetheart please please don’t move don’t…mmmh.”
A minute went by before I could speak again. Once I caught my breath, I gazed down at this gift from God, and my heart tilted. My worst fear had come to pass. I’d hurt her.
“I’m all right.” Her smile was tremulous. “Really, I am,” she whispered on a sob. Tears rushed down the sides of her face like raindrops on glass.
My little Pinocchio wasn’t such a good liar after all.
“Oh, my sweet girl.” Rolling my hips, I kissed the corners of her eyes. “I’ll make it good for you. I swear.”
And I was a man of my word.
I slowly withdrew and slid home again. My body trembled from the effort. She was so small and so achingly tight. I had to be careful. I’d thought a rubber would dull the sensation, but she felt even better than I’d imagined.
I’d been at it five minutes when I first felt the change. The tenseness left her body. She circled her hips experimentally, and a look of wonder lit her face.
That’s when my control snapped and I thrust into her with abandon. She was a virgin. Pure. Untouched. And she’d given herself to me. She was mine, this—I pulled out and rammed back into her—this was mine. Some primitive instinct took pride in that. I was mating, claiming, penetrating.
Damn if I didn’t feel like a caveman.
I swept my tongue inside her mouth, all the while, stroking her inner walls down below. I knew I should take it easy, but I’d suffered through too many wet dreams. I couldn’t stop. Just like I’d imagined, she was wetter than wet. Hotter than hot. A velvet vise that tightened the deeper I sank. She held on fast while I took, then gave right back.
Somewhere in the back of my brain reality called. Velvet vise. How could she feel this good with a condom? The truth slapped me like a wet hand. “Oh, crap,” I gasped. “It broke.” She tightened her legs around me as I drove in again, unable to stop. “Damn it, the…rubber—it broke. I gotta pull out.”
But she wouldn’t let me. She dug her nails into my butt to hold me in place. Satin thighs imprisoned my ribcage, drew me in deeper. She wasn’t about to let me go, and I didn’t have the strength or will to fight her.
Pleasure speared through my cock, from root to tip. With the condom gone, I could feel every silky ridge of her, could feel the frayed piece of rubber bunch with each drag and thrust. The friction felt indescribable. I suckled her nipple, all the while stroking the same spot inside her until she gasped. Somehow I knew that tender pocket was right where she wanted me. Then I felt it—her first spasm. I cut her scream off with a thorough kiss while she came with such sweetness, I couldn’t help but follow.
Convulsions ran the gambit within her body. The hot glove sheathing me fluttered, squeezing my cock like a million tiny fists. That’s all it took. Pleasure rushed my groin as I came hard and hot, flooding into her until she’d milked me dry.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Buried Treasure
SHANNON
____________________________
I wilted in Trace’s arms, breathless, giddy, and sated. “Oh, God. Now…we’ll need…to take another shower.”
We’d showered together an hour ago when we’d awakened at the crack of dawn. I was sore, but I wanted him again, wanted that closeness. So he made love to me slowly, gently, up against the cool tile as hot water sprayed down on us. Somehow, we’d ended up back in bed again.
“I think I broke…somethin’, that time,” he said, puffing.
I giggled. “I won’t be able to walk…for a week.”
“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”
“Is that a threat?”
“Yup.” Chest still pumping, he pulled out and rolled off me. “What do you think…about us gettin’ away from all this? Just for a few days.”
“Huh?”
He rubbed my thigh. “This weekend. Maybe a hotel room in the city. Better still Cholly was telling me about this cabin resort up in the mountains.”
“Perhaps after I clean this mess up.”
“Mess?”
I tried to catch my breath before answering. “The wedding with Darien for one. I’ve signed contracts…need to settle up with vendors. Notify friends, family.”
“How long will that take?”
I gave an exaggerated shrug. “Who knows? I’ve never done this before. It’s bound to be sticky.”
“Yeah, but that shouldn’t take long.” He scrubbed a hand over his wet hair. “You break your contracts and pay the fees.”
“That’s not the only consideration here.”
One of his eyebrows arched high. “What else?”
I rose on an elbow to stare down at him. “My aunt, uncle, and godfather are co-conspirators in a murder cover-up.”
“If that’s not a reason to get away, I don’t know what is. I don’t know about you, but I could use a couple mental health days. For real. Trust me, all this bullshit will be here when we get back.”
Foreboding gnawed deep. “But Mother’s killer is still out there. We’ve got to hire a lawyer. Contact the prosecutor’s office. I expect Uncle Sears to launch a vigorous defense. There’s a massive amount of new information. Mrs. Campbell, Uncle Jackson, what I remembered from Dr. Rosen….”
He levered up, balancing on a forearm. His eyes were like searchlights. “What’s really going on here?”
I felt cornered, flustered. “I’m estranged from my family. Uncle Sears is in the hospital—”
“With a wicked case of indigestion. Least that’s what you said last night.”
“Yes, but it’s what put him there that concerns me. It wasn’t a heart attack, but his stomach problems are stress-related. He’s scared because he knows I’m not backing down. Wait until he and Auntie find out about our visit to the sheriff’s.”
“You didn’t say anything at the hospital?”
“How could I? He and Auntie were at each other’s throats. More than usual. They had to sedate him, it got so bad. And I was upset about the fight with you. Numb about Darien.”
“It was a lot to deal with,” he said in a hushed voice.
“Then Mead shows up and starts pointing fingers at me. Darien arrived just as I was leaving. I ignored him.” I sighed. “When it rains it pours.”
He stared at me with sober eyes. “None of that should stop this trip. Don’t you think we could use the time away to clear our heads? Maybe get a handle on how we should move forward?”
“Yes, but—”
“But what?” I lowered my eyes and he nodded to himself. “Oh, I get it. A romantic weekend with me would set tongues waggin’, wouldn’t it?”
Seconds passed. Finally, the angry silence yanked the truth out of me. “All right! All right!” I scowled. “Look, it’s just the timing, okay? I’m about to cancel my wedding, so if I go running off with you now, I’ll be the one wearing the Scarlet Letter. Nobody will care about the details, they’ll just see Lilith Bradford’s daughter doing what comes natural. My God, Darien’s been carrying on for months behind my back. All the guilt I’ve suffered about us…and what was he doing? Screwing Kate Sims the whole time! Why should I be the one—”
“To look bad?” He cocked a brow. “If you think that’s scary, wait’ll your bridge club pals hear about our screaming match last night. We likely woke the dead. Not to mention, I gave the whole neighborhood a peep show.”
I looked away.
“Forgot about that, didn’t you?” When I didn’t answer, he jiggled my hand. “It’s not that you’re ashamed of us. You just want to make sure you come off smelling like a rose.”
“Why do you have to say it like that?”
“Am I wrong?”
“Yes,” I said with certainty. “I’m not ashamed. Just scared.”
“Then write it in the sky. Slap it on a billboard. Tell them you don’t give a damn what they think. That’ll kill the fear for good.”
I looked into his eyes, marveling at how beautiful he was, and how unworthy I felt. I’d hurt him again. And why? Because old habits died hard. Because it would take much more than words and good intentions to erase a lifetime of fear.
Trace peeled the condom off. He threw his legs over the edge of the bed and snatched his underwear from the floor. After he’d tossed the condom in the trash, he yanked the boxer-briefs over his hips, and stalked toward the door, but swung back around mid-step.
“I may be free and clear of disease, but there are other concerns.” When my face fell, he said, “Once is all it takes. I mean, you’re not on birth control, and, as I recall, I came inside you twice.” He quirked a brow, then flashed two fingers. “Last night when the condom broke, and again in the shower. We both know I didn’t pull out in time.”
As if on cue, a damp reminder seeped between my thighs.
His gaze dropped to my abdomen. “My little soldiers are in there right now, looking for one thing.” At my widened eyes, he said, “Oh, yeah, we may have created a new life. Now wouldn’t that be somethin’? Think of the headline they could run.” He thrust his hands in front of him. His long fingers curved to form a mock marquee: “Bradford Bears Butcher Boy’s Bastard.”
I flinched. He’d hurled the words like knives. “You know I’d be honored to carry your child.”
“Sure you would.” Trace rolled his eyes and snatched a clean pair of boxers from a drawer, then pulled a shirt and Levi’s from his closet. “I need to get to the flower shop before work.” He stalked down the hall and slammed the bathroom door. The house shook.
I threw his robe on and scrambled after him, getting to the bathroom in a flash. I didn’t bother to knock, just burst through the door, only to freeze in my tracks.
Head bent, he’d set one hand against the tiled wall. With the other hand, he gripped his penis while a steady stream of urine splashed into the toilet bowl. He didn’t even spare me a glance, just continued relieving himself.
There was an intimacy in watching him do this, and strangely enough, it was then that I realized what I had to do to make things right again.
When he was done, he gave his penis two shakes and tucked it in his boxers. After he’d flushed, he tried to move past me, but I blocked his way to the shower. Tying my arms around his waist, I pressed my cheek to his chest. But he didn’t hug me back. His body was as stiff as a pole in my arms.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“I know,” he said staring past me. “You can’t help it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It’s nothin’ I haven’t said before.” He set me away from him, tugged his underwear down, and flipped the shower on. “I used to think you were one of the bravest people I know, and you still are, to a degree. But here’s the problem. You’ll stand up to bullies, but you’re terrified of standing up to yourself.”
That went right over my head. “Huh?”
“Remember my brain box? Well, you’ve got one too. The fancy name for it is repression. I learned that from Doc. You repress your emotions and the way I figure it, you operate on some kind of…weird autopilot. Anything that feels too real, you shove it down—or you run. That’s how you stayed in denial about us for so long.”
I shook my head. “I’m glad you’ve got this all figured out.”
“I do.” He looked at me for a long while. “I spent twelve years in an iron cage with wardens, guards, sharpshooters, and psychopaths. And what were you doin’? You’ll likely say, living your life out here in freedom, right?”
Any answer I gave would probably be wrong, so I held my tongue.
He stepped into the shower and grabbed a well-used bar of Ivory soap. “You’re not ashamed of me, you’re just afraid. And I get that. I really do. But the truth is, you’re in bondage, wasting away in a platinum cage you built. Trying to live up to your own impossible standards. You talk about not being ‘enough’ for other people, but this is about you.” Steam rose as he ducked beneath the hot spray and cracked an eye open. “I may be on parole, but you’re still the warden of your own penitentiary. So, between the two of us, who’s the real prisoner, darlin’?”
He yanked the shower curtain closed.
SHANNON
____________________________
I slowed as a crossing guard led a line of middle school students across the street. Since I couldn’t stand the thought of going home, I’d picked up some toiletries at Walgreens and checked into a motel. I glanced at the dashboard clock—8:05 a.m.—fifty-eight minutes since I’d last seen Trace.
He didn’t say a word after he left the shower. Just got dressed and threw on his coat. A minute later, he was gone.
Was he right? Was I a prisoner of my own making?
Looking back, I had a long list of accomplishments. High school homecoming queen, captain of the varsity cheerleading squad, National Honor Society member, Sarah Lawrence magna cum laude graduate, successful realtor, and fiancé of a celebrated attorney.
I’d achieved all this in spite of child abuse, my father’s sudden death, as well as my mother’s murder and sleazy legacy. Yet lurking beneath all the dazzling achievements and ‘atta girl’s’ was a fear so stark and terrifying, I’d buried it as deep as I could—until Trace dug it out.
He’d spoken a hard truth. I had become my own jailer, and it was up to me to free myself. Nobody else could. All my accolades and certificates couldn’t hide the fact that I was just as flawed as everyone else…even my own mother, which meant I had a right—no, a responsibility—to make my own mistakes and not be ashamed of them.
Because I was only human.
When I rolled into the plaza, ten minutes later, I immediately saw Darien’s Mercedes. Spotting me, he climbed out, stood in front of the office, and waited.
One part of me wanted to berate him for the months he’d been lying, while the other refused to point fingers. I’d given Trace my virginity last night; had a few close calls with him even before that.
Saying Darien cheated first sounded juvenile, even to my own ears.
I cut the engine, filled my lungs, and threw the door open.
May as well get this over with now.
Darien lurked on the sidewalk, his hands shoved in the pockets of a blue trench coat. Even with a tan, he somehow seemed pale. His face looked weighted down, and his perfectly clipped chestnut hair was as windblown as the rest of him.
“Shannon….”
I sailed by, head bent, fingers sifting through my keys. “Make it quick. I’m just here for my day planner and Rolodex.”
“You weren’t home. I’ve been calling your cell all night.”
“It’s broken,” I said, my breath fogging from the cold.
“Can you at least tell me where you’ve been?”
I rammed the key into the lock. “You honestly don’t expect me to answer that, do you?”
He dragged a hand down his face. “I was worried sick.”
“As you can see, I’m fine.”
He followed when I nudged the door open. I flipped the light switch and headed straight for my office. Once there, I eased into a chair—mindful of the tenderness between my legs—and gathered my things with ruthless precision. I kept my eyes down, anywhere but on him.
Darien snagged a seat on the opposite side of my desk. “Honey, please. I need to talk to you.”
I stilled, heaved a sigh. “What is it?”
“You can’t know how sorry I am.”
Oh, I did, and strangely enough, I pitied him. The man looked miserable. Lines in his forehead, the ones I’d once thought gave him character, sliced dramatic paths across his tanned face. Shadows underscored his weary eyes.
I was hesitant, but spoke my mind anyway. “I felt like I’d been kicked in the stomach yesterday. Before I left the hospital, I had to touch a tree and feel its bark…to be sure it was real…that I was real. How long have you and—”
“She’s irrelevant,” he supplied with a hint of desperation.
“Irrelevant,” I repeated, my eyes never leaving his. The male capacity for sex without love both puzzled and exasperated me. “I doubt Kate shares your lack of enthusiasm.”
His face looked tight with strain. “She was the tabloid source. I confronted her as soon as I knew.”
Swinging. Sadomasochism. The inherent malice behind the lies made sense now.
“She’s in love with you.”
“Yes,” he admitted with a solemn nod. “I didn’t want a lawsuit, so I paid her off. She’s left the firm.”
If anything, I felt sorry for Kate Sims. But one question nagged at me. “It’s obvious your…secret relationship has been going on for a while. Even before us, probably. So why did you ask me to marry you?”
“Love.” He said the word as if I should have known better. “Yes, I was seeing her before you, but it was just sex. Nothing else.”
“Well, I accepted your proposal because…you reminded me of my father.”
His head jutted back. “What?”
“I know it makes no sense, but there you have it. You’re not in love with me. You’re in love with an idea. Truth is, we used each other, Darien. I wanted something you couldn’t give—your undivided attention. I knew this, but I did it anyway, hoping this time things would be different.”
“Different how?”
I sniffed, looked away. “Hoping this time the busy, distracted, and successful older guy would pay attention me. And you….” I sighed. “You wanted a trophy wife—someone from a good family, someone naïve and malleable. But Kate wasn’t that someone.” I served him a frank look. “And neither am I.”
Darien threw up his hands. “I don’t know what you’re going on about, but here’s my truth. I was wrong to put my career first. Just let me make it up to you. I swear I’ll do better.”
I propped my forearms on the desk. “It’s not just that. I’m tired of watching my back. I can’t guarantee that I won’t screw up in the future. And when they hear about us, trust me, it’ll be my fault, regardless. I’m Lilith Bradford’s daughter.”
“But it doesn’t have to be that way. Look, I wouldn’t care if you were the devil’s daughter! I am in love with you. All I want is another chance to prove it.”
Oh, my God, he’s serious. I drew back and with a heavy heart, slowly lifted my left hand for his inspection.
He blinked at the tan line. “Where the hell is your ring?”
“It’s over. I’m telling you now because I’d rather you hear it from me than gossips.” I paused. “I slept with Trace.”
Color drained from his cheeks.
“I’m in love with him, Darien. I-I suspect I always have been.” Then I added, “He didn’t kill Mother, and I plan on finding out who did.”
Comprehension finally dawned in his steel-gray eyes. “You were with him last night?” I nodded. “How long has this been going on?”
For me? A lifetime. Trace was my first love—my one and only true love—but I’d been too blind to see it. “Does that really matter now?”
Visibly stunned, Darien struggled to his feet. He ambled around the desk, sank to the edge, and grasped my hand, his grip unsteady. “I don’t know what’s happening, but I love you. I always have.” He cleared his throat. “Don’t do this.”
Tears pooled in his eyes as I dug the solitaire from my pocket, uncurled his hand, and tucked it into his palm. He drew a sharp breath, closing his fingers around the gem. It made a scraping sound when it came in contact with his fraternity ring.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “We just weren’t meant to be.”
He rubbed his damp eyes with a fist and dropped the ring in a breast pocket. “Guess that answers my follow-up question.”
For the next hour, we spoke in solicitous tones, both of us coming to terms with what would never be, and what never was. We cried together, held each other in grief, in sadness. And for the first time in our relationship, Darien bared his soul, allowing me to see his emotional nakedness and vulnerability. That heartened me most of all.
However, when the conversation finally shifted, I had a sense that he would get past this—we both would—and perhaps come out the better for it.
“Are you going back to the hospital?” I asked, mopping my nose with a hanky.
Darien slowly stood and ran a hand through his hair. “Uh, yeah. Sears asked me to pick him up.” He sighed. “They’re discharging him this afternoon. But something’s going on with him and Hesta. They were acting….”
“Weird?” After he nodded, I added, “Want to know why?”
“You told them about Kate.” He shot me a rueful smile. “I expect Sears’ll want to dissolve our partnership.”
“For your sake, I hope so.”
“Now you’ve lost me.”
I raised both brows at his puzzled expression. “Your secret’s safe. I didn’t tell him anything. This is something entirely different.” I hesitated. “You may have been a terrible fiancé, but you’re one of the best lawyers I know. Trace and I will need the best.”
Darien looked at me like I was crazy. “What makes you think I’d ever lift a finger to help him?”
“Because despite your personal failings, you respect justice. That’s what I’m counting on.” I powered up my computer and found Mrs. Campbell’s and Sheriff Gray’s mp3 files. “There’s something you need to hear. So grab a seat. I’m about to give you a chance to right a huge wrong.”
TRACE
____________________________
There was nothing I could say or do to change Shannon. Her issues had been ingrained from birth. So where did that leave me? Forever a slave to her annoying obsession with appearances? I loved her more than anything, but could she say the same? I doubted it. If she did, our relationship would be at the top of her list. So what was? Tongue waggers!
I scowled and stalked across the parking lot. This wasn’t my problem. It was hers. She had to work it out. I’d be damned before I’d spend another moment worrying about it. So I shoved Shannon from my mind, and instead focused on the task ahead. And that was picking Tori Mills’ brain.
Knowing the girl like I did, I figured I’d have to come up with a creative lie to get what I wanted. I may even have to do some sweet-talking. Women like Tori had the same buttons, and I’d poked hers too many times to mention in high school. If I was lucky, the store would be empty.
Bullshit was a dish best served without an audience.
I swung the glass door open and sauntered in. The sweet floral warmth of the tiny shop was a welcome change from the chill outside. Tori stood behind the counter counting a wad of cash. I glanced around. Not a customer in sight.
Hot damn.
“My, my,” I said. “Don’t you look delectable this A.M.”