With his fingers spread, he skimmed his palm up her side until he grazed the full curve of her breast. She didn’t trust him completely. He understood that, and would do whatever it took to change her mind. Because she was the last person he’d ever want to hurt.In a voice that demanded an answer, he asked, ‘Do you want me?’Her expression softened, and she closed her eyes. ‘Yes,’ she whispered. Then she met his gaze, and her eyes were bright with appeal. ‘But I don’t want to be hurt.’A pent-up breath shuddered out of him. ‘That makes two of us. But if you want me to stop and take you to your car, you need to tell me. Now.’ He thought he should earn extra points in heaven for asking.Her fingers slid into his hair and gripped his head. Her eyes glazed, shining as if a light burned inside her. She drew him closer, holding his gaze until his lips touched hers with a sweetness that bordered on devastating. He kissed her again, then again, the urgency building as she told him without word
Thunder rumbled the walls of his bedroom, pulling Jackson from his light doze. He was on his back with Rachel curved into his side, her head tucked against his shoulder. Her steady breathing warmed his neck as she slept. Moments before her eyes had slipped shut with exhaustion, she’d burrowed her fingers into his chest hair, then nestled against him, fitting her body to his as if it were the most natural thing for her to do. Since she’d never had sex before, he knew there was nothing natural about the act. But then they hadn’t had sex ; it had been something . . . else. Something that defied description.He had no idea how long they’d slept, but he thought it hadn’t been more than an hour. He didn’t want to risk waking Rachel by twisting around to look at the clock on the nightstand to find out. Gray shadows sealed the room. He couldn’t tell if the lack of light was due to the approaching dusk or the storm clouds that had gathered over the city during the day. Hearing the soft tapping
Jackson stood in the doorway to Penny’s apartment, frowning as he surveyed the destruction. His first impulse was to locate the maintenance office and request a shovel, but he refrained and instead took mental notes. The place looked ransacked, or perhaps a bomb had gone off, leaving the walls and ceiling intact but destroying everything else. Or maybe someone had left in a big hurry.Half of the cushions of the yellow and orange striped couch were on the floor; the others were buried beneath layers of clothing, towels and plates stuck with stale, half-eaten food that he estimated were at least a week old. In the dim light, he couldn’t see enough of the carpet to determine what color it was supposed to be, but he guessed a murky brown.The suffocating smell of debris and musty air infused the room. Wads of paper, Styrofoam cups and cereal boxes littered the small kitchen table to his left. Three of the red vinyl chairs were askew; the fourth was turned over. Was it on its side because
The abrupt ringing of the phone stopped Jackson in mid-step. Rachel tensed in his arms as her head came up off his shoulder with a jerk. Without a word, he set her on her feet and grabbed his jeans from the floor as she ran for the kitchen. He heard her soft voice answer, then silence. He zipped up his pants without buttoning them and joined her.She held the receiver to her chest with both hands, then reluctantly held it out to him. ‘It’s for you.’ He took the phone. Without bothering to ask who it was, he asked, ‘What did you find?’‘It took a while,’ Derrick said, ‘but we traced them to a charter that took them to Mexico, Puerto Vallarta to be exact.’‘They?’‘Yeah. Penny and her boyfriend, Mark.’‘Have you found where they’re staying?’‘Not yet.’ Derrick sighed. ‘They’re not using credit cards, so we haven’t been able to trace them.’ Jackson met Rachel’s anxious gaze. ‘What about a return flight?’‘Nothing. Puerto Vallarta is a hot tourist spot, but there’s nothing but mountains a
Leaning over Rachel’s chair, Jackson braced his hands on the wooden arms and whispered against her ear, ‘You look troubled. Is there anything I can do to help?’Her soft intake of air told him he’d startled her. He hadn’t meant to sneak up on her, but she’d been so absorbed in the three cards on the table, he could have entered the room yelling and she wouldn’t have noticed.She turned her head, bringing her lush mouth within inches of his. Too close for him not to do something about it.Before he could kiss her, she said, ‘Troubled? Whatever would give you that idea?’‘You’re frowning.’She forced her brow to smooth. ‘If I were in trouble, Jackson, what would you do to help me?’With the need to touch her spreading to every part of his body, he tightened his hold on the chair before he did something that would embarrass them both. He’d known better than to get to close to her. How often had her rich, addictive scent reduced him to a state where nothing mattered except loving her with
Rachel gathered her cards and stored them in their box. Securing them in her purse, she vaguely registered the clink and rattle of dishes and the hurried steps of servants carting away trays of uneaten food. The hushed conversation among the musicians as they packed their equipment replaced the earlier sounds of music and laughter. It was nearly one in the morning, and she felt the effects of every minute she’d spent smiling, reading cards, and assuring people who had everything that they would have more.She couldn’t precisely recall what she’d told her clients. She hadn’t been able to focus after her sister’s sudden reappearance. Jackson’s comment about its being bad timing was like calling a hurricane a passing shower. If her sister had the bad judgement to leave without word, why had she chosen tonight to return? Rachel didn’t want to believe Penny had anything to do with the thefts, but her return seemed too perfect to be a coincidence.She’d also hinted that she’d done something
Jackson shoved the door to the control room open and crossed directly to Richie Collins, one of seven night technicians who manned a select group of accounts. Jackson had phoned from his car, instructing Richie on what he wanted done before he reached the office. If the younger man had thought it odd that the boss was coming in at four in the morning, he hadn’t let on.Rounding the half-circle desk that contained a fleet of monitors, Jackson said, ‘Tell me what you found. And it better be good.’‘We picked up something, but I don’t know how much it’ll help.’ Richie tapped on his keyboard,bringing up one window after another. Then, one monitor blanked to gray snow. The screen rolled and displayed a hazy black and white image of Rachel’s living room.‘What’s wrong with the picture?’ Jackson ran a hand through his hair, then leaned over the technician to use the keyboard to try and sharpen the picture. Nothing worked. ‘Shit.’‘My guess is that the RF signal from the camera needs adjusti
Rachel came to an abrupt halt by the door reserved for prisoners and stared in horror at the crowded courtroom. Behind the table where her attorney sat, leaning back in his chair with a bored expression on his plain face, her mother, Penny and Mark sat together, hands linked in the first row of wooden benches.Excited murmurs rose, then were cut off as if a dozen invisible hands had simultaneously clamped over everyone’s mouths. She felt a dozen pairs of eyes turn to her. People she recognized. Mrs Gibbons, the Donaldsons, Senator Hastings, all watched her with silent condemnation. They were clients who’d shopped in her store, women whose cards she’d read, civic leaders whom she’d helped raise money for charity. Everyone present had been a victim in the crimes. Was that why they’d jammed into the courtroom? To ensure justice was served?Linda sat beside the senator, her hands clenched in her lap, a frown pulling at her full mouth. Biting down on her lip, she looked about the room and