And Able (20 page)

Hotwire felt Claire go lax against him. She’d been limp before, but this had the quality of sleep. For the second time, she’d fallen asleep after making love. Well, now he knew what to do if she ever got insomnia…and he was still going to tease her.

He couldn’t help feeling smug about the way he’d worn her out. A man liked to know he made an impression on his lover. Considering her response in and beside the hot tub, he’d made a heck of an impression on Claire.

He smiled in the semidarkness before lifting her back out of the water. He carried her to a bench beside the hot tub and laid her on it. Her naked, sprawling abandon was enough to make his dick twitch with renewed interest despite his recent powerful orgasm.

He went out to the pool area and grabbed the two hotel bathrobes Ernie had left earlier on his instruction. He pulled his on and then fished Claire’s swimsuit out of where it was floating on the edge of the hot tub and put it in his pocket.

Then he fed her loose body into her robe. She was plenty relaxed now. Feeling like the general of a particularly successful conquering army, he wrapped the robe around her and tied it. He was careful to cover her completely before carrying her out of the pool area and down the hall to the elevators.

Thankfully, the elevator was empty when it arrived, and no one else got on as it took them to the floor of their suite.

She woke up…sort of…when he took her into the shower to wash off the chlorine. She mumbled and grumbled as he rinsed both of their bodies and washed her hair. Her eyes closed while he was rinsing the suds away, and he was sure she’d gone to sleep standing up.

He turned off the shower and dried her off before tucking her into the king-size bed. She mumbled his name and curled onto her side. He finished drying himself off and joined her. She didn’t wake when he pulled her into his arms, but snuggled into him with a soft sigh.

It felt good. Better than good, it felt right and she would have to recognize that eventually.

Claire woke at dawn to Brett’s touch.

She smiled sleepily. “Hi.”

He was propped on his side, facing her. His fully alert blue gaze was filled with sensual promise and the kind of warm welcome she couldn’t let herself start thinking meant something more than it did. But her heart did a strange little twist anyway.

Without warning, he rolled on top of her, his naked body warm and vibrant. “Hi, yourself.”

She slid her legs apart, making a spot for him in the cradle of her thighs. “I could get used to waking up this way. It’s nice.”

“Keep thinking that way and we’re going to get along just fine, darlin’,” he said in his slow southern drawl that was like sweet honey to her ears.

She rocked her pelvis upward, groaning with pleasure at the same time he did. “I’d say we get along pretty well already.”

“You may be right, but I’m a competitive man. I’m always looking to improve.”

Images of the night before came into her head and heat suffused through her. “Impossible.”

He shook his head and then kissed her. He was lazy and slow, but didn’t hold back from making love and bringing them both to the ultimate pleasure as soon as she was ready. Afterward, unlike the day before when making love had exhausted her, she felt energized and ready to face anything.

When she said so, bouncing out of bed and heading to the shower, he laughed and followed her. They played in the shower like two children, exploring each other and teasing until they made love again, this time fast and furiously, with him holding her up against the tiled wall. She wondered in a brief moment of sanity whether every time would be different and so wonderful.

Incredibly, he’d remembered a condom in the shower. She couldn’t have imagined making love the way they had, so the thought of preparing for it totally threw her.

When she asked him about it, he winked and told her, “I guess I’ve got a more active imagination than you, but I can’t conceive of being
 
anywhere
 
naked with you that I wouldn’t want to make love.”

She just shook her head and dried off, feeling more lighthearted than she could ever remember being. Spending time with Brett felt
 
good
.

They checked out of the hotel after a scrumptious breakfast from room service and headed back to Portland in Brett’s car.

She watched over her shoulder as the small town disappeared from view. “I wish we could stay longer.”

Though she didn’t mind leaving before running into the maintenance guy, Ernie. She felt shy about him knowing what she and Brett had been doing in the hot tub the night before, but not embarrassed enough to regret doing it. And she sincerely doubted Ernie had even an inkling of what had really gone on.

Even she couldn’t quite believe it. She’d known Brett was an experienced lover, but nothing could have prepared her for the way he’d made her feel in and out of the hot tub.

Her mind filled with memories and she lost herself in them.

“Claire…” he said with slight exasperation.

Her head snapped round and she looked at him. “What?”

“I said,
 
I would bring you back sometime. What were you daydreaming about?”

“I’m not telling.” But if her blush didn’t give her away, he wasn’t as observant as she thought.

“I bet I can guess,” he said with that slow smile that always made her heart go crazy.

“I bet you can, too. I don’t care what you say…nobody can learn how to do something like that out of a book.” Though she hated the thought he’d put in real-time “flight hours” with another woman—or women—to get so adept at it.

“I told you last night, I’ve never done that with another woman.” His tone was so serious, she had to believe him. “Though I tried a less intense version of the technique that night you refused to take your pain medication.”

“You were good at it then, too.”

“But last night was better,” he said, his voice laced with satisfaction.

“Yes.” It had been incredible. “Why only me? Did you just read the book?”

“I read it eighteen months ago and the simple answer is, I wanted to.
 
With you
. I’ve spent a lot of time fantasizing that scene with you, but I’ve got to be honest…it was way better than my daydreams. And I didn’t think that was possible.”

She hadn’t thought the whole thing was possible. “You’re an unbelievable lover, Brett.”

“Don’t give me all the credit, sugar. All I did was follow the suggestions I’d read and a few ideas I’d thought up on my own during some unbridled fantasizing. You’re the one with enough feminine passion to power a small city.”

Unbridled fantasizing?
 
He thought her passion could power a small city? She sucked in a worried breath. “Do you think I’m a nympho?”

He burst out laughing and didn’t stop for several miles.

She frowned at him, not finding her worries remotely as funny as he did.

“You’re joking, right?” he finally asked, unchecked amusement glinting in his blue gaze.

“No. And why can’t I be a nympho?” she asked, offended for a different reason altogether.

“Do you want to be one?”

“No.”

“Then don’t worry, you are in no risk of going that direction.”

“How can you say that after last night?”

“You are twenty-eight years old and until yesterday, the only two lovers you had were high-school boyfriends. That is not nymphomaniaclike behavior.”

“Maybe I’m like the alcoholic who doesn’t realize she is one until she takes her first drink and then ends up dying from alcohol poisoning within a few short years.”

So, it hadn’t exactly been her proverbial first drink, but she could imagine becoming addicted to Brett’s lovemaking way too easily. She didn’t like the prospect one bit. Being addicted to a man who was still pining after his lost love was not the way she wanted to spend the rest of her life.

He shook his head, laughing like a demented hyena again. “You’re not going to die from enjoying sex with me.”

“I thought I was going to have a heart attack last night.”

“You didn’t.”

No. She’d fallen asleep instead. She had to admit that didn’t seem all that dangerous. “Well,” she grumbled with a pout, “you make it sound like other women aren’t like me.”

“They aren’t.”

“Doesn’t that make me a deviant?”

“No. It makes you unique and special. You do not have abnormal desires, but are so sweetly responsive you make me shake when I touch you. Frankly, sugar, you’re the lover of this good ole’ boy’s fantasies.”

He couldn’t mean it. “
I’m not Elena
.”

He was silent for several seconds, his expression losing any sign of amusement, and then he sighed. “Believe it or not, I’m not looking for another Elena.”

Oh, she believed him. Once you’d had perfection, you didn’t go looking for the same bolt of lightning to strike twice. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does. Or you wouldn’t have brought it up. I need you to listen to this, okay?”

“All right.” What choice did she have? She was the goober who had brought it up, but if he went into a long dialogue about how different she and Elena were, Claire was afraid she just might cry.

“I don’t spend my time with you comparing you to her. You are yourself, Claire. I don’t want you to be anyone else and you can believe me when I say that I have never made love to a more responsive woman or one who fit me better sexually.”

She was more sensual than his lost love? “
Never?”

“Never. You knock me flat on my butt with your passion.”

It was her turn to laugh. “Yeah. Right.”

He wasn’t flat on his butt when he was turning her inside out with his touching in the hot tub.

“You don’t believe me? I’ve never once forgotten the condom, not even when I was a randy teen. Being with you blows my rational mind with the power of detonated C-4.”

He’d never forgotten the condom, not once? “Was Elena on the pill?”

“No.”

“Oh.” If what he was saying was true, and she didn’t believe he would ever lie to her…the passion they shared
 
was
 
unique for him.

Special…as he’d said.

How long did lust last, though? Not long enough to cement a lifetime, she was sure. But then she couldn’t imagine ever feeling less entranced by his touch.

Was that lust…or love?

They were certainly a pair. She didn’t believe in romantic love, but denying its existence had no power to diminish the fear that it was that exact emotion responsible for her current turmoil. He did believe in love. He’d made no bones about how much he’d loved Elena, but he’d told Claire he would never love her.

So, she didn’t believe in the emotion, but she was afraid she loved him anyway, and he did believe in it, but he was not similarly afflicted. What a mess!

And where did it leave them? Where did it leave her?

She had a choice, she supposed…break off her relationship with Brett now because of probable future pain or live in the present and worry about the future when it arrived. It was no choice, really. The here and now was too good to give up for a future without him, especially when such a future looked bleaker than her past had ever been.

Not wanting to dwell on that reality, she said, “I heard you on the phone to Ethan this morning.”

Brett gave her a measured look before fixing his attention back on the road ahead. “He thinks he might have a lead on the men in black at the funeral. He and my contacts in the FBI are tracking it down.”

“That’s great news.”

“Yes, it is. Hopefully, my operative who took Queenie to Nevada has had similar success.”

“What is he looking for?”

“Collins has instructions to make a list of everyone who had seen Lester the month before he died. We could go back farther, but my gut tells me that a civ wouldn’t have waited that long to neutralize the risk of Arwan revealing him once he realized Lester was talking so freely about his past.”

“I’m sure you’re right, but do you really think Queenie will be able to remember everyone Lester saw, or even knew about them all?”

“According to you both, he wasn’t a man who socialized much. It shouldn’t be that hard, and my operative is trained to coax information from the deepest memory banks.”

“Wow.”

“But he’s not limiting himself to Queenie…he’s also talking to other people at Belmont Manor, both residents and employees. In addition, he’ll be going over the logs of Lester’s visitors, both outsiders and medical professionals.”

“What about me?”

“What about you?”

“I spent a lot of time with Lester.”

“You were only with him at night. You said yourself he rarely saw anyone else on your shift, even when you weren’t there.”

“That’s true, but there were exceptions.”

“Make a list of them and we’ll cross-reference it with the list that Collins comes up with.”

“Okay.” She leaned over the seat and grabbed her backpack from the floor behind her. “I wish I’d brought my laptop. I like typing more than writing.”

“Poor baby. You should have a PDA.”

“Yeah, but they cost money, and keeping my computer equipment up to date is hard enough on my budget! The laptop you gave me was a whole generation newer than my old one. I’m still wondering how you got Josette’s homeowner’s insurance to pay for it.”

“Just be glad they did.”

“I am.” She was also fairly certain Brett had not required full payment, but the one time she’d brought up paying the difference, he’d gotten majorly cranky and refused to discuss it.

She pulled one of the composition books from her backpack and flipped it open. It was the black one she used for her programming class. Brett would probably laugh if she told him she bought different-colored comp books to take notes in and coded them by class types.

Even Josette had found Claire’s obsessive organization amusing, but Claire hadn’t minded. Josette was never mean about anything—she just knew how to laugh and that was a trait Claire liked in a friend.

She flipped through the written-on pages, looking for a blank one, and it took a few seconds for her brain to register what she was seeing. The pages were not filled with her notes on computer programming, but with names, dates, and locations in a neat print that was definitely not her handwriting.

She stopped turning pages and read one in its entirety.

Her skin grew clammy with shock as cold permeated her body. “Brett?”

“Yeah, sugar?”

“You said you thought having Lester’s kill book would help with the case?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I think we have it.”

“What?” He looked sharply at her and then back at the road.

“You remember how you thought Lester might have hidden his own book and then forgotten he’d done it?”

“Yes.”