Before Sunrise (16 page)

She knew she was blushing, but she was too involved to care. He couldn't see anyway…

His hands slid up to cup her breasts and rub softly at the nipples, so that she gasped. He lifted his head and suddenly pushed her down on the bed, onto her back,
holding her hands beside her head as he stared at her bare breasts.

She shivered. The moment was explosive. She moved restlessly on the bed, aching for more.

His eyes went down to her pale pink briefs, to the length of her elegant, pretty legs. He drew in a rough breath. “You can't imagine how tempted I am to strip you out of those briefs and have you where you lay.”

Her lips parted on a rough breath. “Joseph…!” she cried.

He glanced toward the sleeping child and his lips made a thin line. He breathed harshly as he turned his eyes back to her prone body. His hands left her wrists and caressed her breasts with arrogant possession. She arched into them helplessly and moaned.

“You're experienced. So am I. There's no reason we can't have each other. Not tonight,” he managed with visible regret. “But soon, Phoebe. I'm going to have you to the roots of your pretty hair. I'm going to make you scream with pleasure. I'm going to make you claw my back raw while I'm having you. When I finish, you'll never get the memory out of your mind!”

She shivered helplessly. What had he said about her being experienced? She wasn't, but he didn't know that. She didn't want to tell him, either. What he said was inflaming her senses. She wanted to take off her clothes and
pull him down on her, feel his body harden with desire, taste his mouth grinding into hers.

He bent and kissed her breasts with exquisite tenderness, enjoying the involuntary motion of her young body, the soft moans that tore out of her throat.

“You're beautiful, Phoebe,” he whispered as he lifted his head. “And one way or another, before I finish this investigation, you're going to sleep in my arms.”

C
ORTEZ MET HIS EVIDENCE
team at the Bennett property, where they found a man badly beaten and unconscious in Bennett's office. It was the site boss, Walks Far, and he had been covered with light dust. They'd bagged his clothing and boots as evidence before he was rushed to the hospital in an ambulance. According to the most recent update from the doctors, Walks Far was in critical condition.

“A passing off-duty police officer noticed the lights on and got suspicious,” Alice Jomes, the evidence technician, indicated a city policeman in jeans. “Forensics indicates that the man wasn't assaulted in here,” she told Cortez decisively.

“Make a guess of what you think happened,” he invited.

Alice drew in a long breath, squinting one eye. “Something like a rock was used to inflict this kind of blunt force trauma to the head.”

Cortez narrowed his own eyes. “How about the dust on his clothing?”

She bent to the victim's discarded clothing and sniffed. “Nothing surface,” she said, almost to herself. “There's a dank odor. He'd been digging or he's been underground. His shoes are wet,” she added, noting the traces of mud and dried water on the leather boots. “And there were spider webs in his hair.” She recalled the dried blood and cobwebs. “At a wild guess, he's been near a water source and in a cave.”

Cortez's heart leaped and he stood up. “I'm going hiking,” he told her, borrowing a flashlight from one of the Chenocetah patrol officers. “I need backup,” he added, glancing at the men, all three of whom were almost half his age.

“I'll go with you,” the tall blond man in jeans, the off-duty police officer who'd loaned him the flashlight said. “Dawes,” he called to his colleague in uniform, “loan me your flashlight, would you?”

“Here,” Dawes said. “I've got a spare one in my squad car.”

“We won't be long. Dawes, give me your cell phone
number,” Cortez added, knowing that the local officers had been given cell phones just recently because their communications equipment was so outdated.

Dawes wrote it down for him on a slip of paper torn from his ticket book.

“If I don't call you every fifteen minutes, you come looking for us,” Cortez told him somberly. He gave the man directions to the cave on the back of Bennett's lot.

“Watch for bears,” Dawes told the men.

“Any bear that can catch me is welcome to eat me,” Cortez murmured absently. “Jones, as soon as the tests are completed on the dirt on his shoes and that stuff on his shirt, I want to know.”

Jones looked at the shirt closely and frowned. “That material looks uncomfortably familiar,” she murmured, returning it to the evidence bag.

“I'll check with you later,” Cortez murmured as he and the officer went out the door.

There were tire tracks at the cave entrance. Cortez bent down with the flashlight, studying them. One of the treads had a missing vertical bar. He smiled to himself as he cautioned the officer to avoid the track and walked into the cave. He was going to tell Jones about that, the minute they got back to the crime scene, so that she could get a plaster cast of it. Good thing her equipment
van was fully equipped, he mused. She carried trowels, picks, brushes, and a broad-mouthed shovel, in addition to her store of paper bags for evidence. Jones rarely used plastic ones—they encouraged moisture and, therefore, mold.

The sight that met his eyes surprised him. There was a skeleton, laid out on the dirt floor. There were also pots and flaked tools, in addition to what looked like stone pipes and small sculptures.

“What the hell is that?” one of the policeman asked.

“At a guess, a stash of stolen artifacts, but I need to verify that. I have to get an anthropologist out here.”

“Lots of luck finding one at this hour,” the policeman chuckled.

Cortez lifted an eyebrow. “Oddly enough, I know exactly where to find one.”

 

P
HOEBE WAS SLEEPING SOUNDLY
when she was shaken gently awake. She opened her eyes and looked up into Cortez's face.

“What time is it?” she murmured.

“Two in the morning,” he said softly, smiling as he pushed the hair out of her eyes. “I need you to get up and get dressed. I think I've just found the missing artifacts from the New York museum robbery.”

She was awake at once. “You're kidding!”

“I'm not.” He tugged her gently to her feet. “Get dressed. I'll wait for you outside,” he added, whispering so that he didn't wake Joseph and Tina.

It was exciting for Phoebe to be involved in an actual investigation. She threw on jeans and a T-shirt with a denim jacket, socks and sneakers. She didn't even take time to comb her hair or put on makeup. Exactly five minutes later, she was in the car.

Cortez smiled approvingly. “You're quick.”

“I had a friend who took half an hour just to put on her makeup,” she commented with a chuckle as she fastened her seatbelt. “Of course, she was gorgeous. I never had looks to begin with, so I don't usually bother about making up.”

He frowned. “But you're lovely,” he said unexpectedly. “Didn't you know?”

She just stared at him, surprised. Although this wasn't the first time he'd complimented her appearance, she still had a hard time believing it.

“You have the least ego of any woman I've ever known,” he murmured as he started the car and backed out of the parking spot in front of the motel. “You're intelligent, you're pretty, you're openhearted. I could go on,” he added with an amused glance, “but I wouldn't want to make you conceited.”

She smiled. “Thanks.”

He shrugged. “I mean it,” he replied. “I don't suppose you even know that I had plans to come back for you three years ago.”

She was very quiet.

He glanced at her set features. “I even had the plane ticket to Charleston. Then Isaac…died.” His expression hardened as he paused for a traffic light. “You can't imagine the turmoil in my family. Isaac's girlfriend was pregnant. Her parents wanted her to have a termination. My mother had a bad heart, and she ended up in the hospital. She begged me to save the child. The only way I could manage to do that was to wed Mary. She agreed reluctantly, and told me she wanted a divorce when Joseph was a month old.”

She didn't want to ask, but she had to know. “Did you…could you…love her?”

“No,” he replied flatly. “And she couldn't love me. She never stopped mourning my brother. Joseph was just barely a month old, and I'd started divorce proceedings, as she'd requested, when she killed herself. She left a note, just three words—Gone to Isaac.”

She bit her lower lip, hard. She could imagine how the young woman had felt. It was how she'd felt when Cortez never came back.

He turned his head toward her, his eyes narrow and watchful. “That's how you felt. Wasn't it?”

Her expression was one of surprise. “Well…yes,” she confessed.

“It's how I felt, too,” he bit off, averting his face. “I couldn't have cared less about my work or even my life. I switched jobs because it involved a lot of travel and I liked it. I didn't have to look at her grieving for Isaac. I didn't have time to grieve over you.”

“You grieved for me?” she asked, fury overcoming her for the second time in a week. “You grieved? And you had the gall to send me three column inches of type about your marriage!” she said harshly. “You didn't write me even one single, damned word…!”

Although they'd hashed this out already, she still hadn't forgiven him for the heartless way he'd broken the news of his marriage.

He pulled the car into a deserted parking lot, cut off the engine and reached for her. His mouth ground into hers as if he wanted to become part of it. He unfastened her seat belt and dragged her across his lap, the kiss building, heating up, devouring. He groaned as if he were in pain.

She had no thought of resisting him. Her body throbbed all over. She wound her arms around his neck
and held on for dear life while she returned the hot kiss with everything in her. It was as if the past three years hadn't even happened. She wanted him so much. She loved him more than her own life. He groaned again and the pressure of his mouth increased. She opened her own mouth and felt the world spin away in a haze of pure, aching desire.

It seemed a very long time before he lifted his head. They were both breathing as if they'd been running. His eyes found hers in the dim light from the streetlights. She looked devastated. There was a faint tremor in her slender body that matched the unsteadiness of his arms. His hands went under her jacket and blouse, and she never protested once. Her own hands were busy under his jacket and shirt, delighting in the feel of thick hair and warm muscle. Her mouth pushed up hard against his and she moaned huskily.

Totally involved, with no other thought in his mind except relief, his hand went to the button and zip of her jeans. But her hand pressed against his hard mouth and she drew away.

“Aren't they waiting for us?” she whispered unsteadily.

“Who? Waiting for us where?” he asked, dazed.

“Evidence technicians. At the crime scene?” she prompted.

He took a deep breath and slowly, the crush of his arms relaxed. He stared down at her as if he'd only just realized he was holding her. He helped her up and let her move back into her own seat.

“So much for restraint,” he murmured with black humor as he refastened his seat belt and started the car. The windshield and the windows were completely fogged. He laughed softly. It was a repeat of their heated interlude in front of her museum. He turned on the defroster and leaned back to let it work.

He turned to her, his eyes quiet and somber. “That was too rough. Did I hurt you?”

“I wouldn't have felt it if you had,” she confessed, her gaze trapped in his. She was still fighting to breathe normally. Her hands trembled as she fastened her own seat belt.

He noticed her hands shaking. He caught one of them and held it close, tight in his own as he stared at her. “Whatever happens, I'm not losing you again,” he said curtly.

She knew that her eyes were eating him. She couldn't help it. He was the most important thing in her life. She returned the firm pressure of his hand, her eyes brimming with tears.

“Don't cry, sweetheart,” he whispered, bending to
brush his mouth tenderly over her wet eyes. “Don't cry. It's all right.” His mouth moved to her nose, her cheeks. His heart was raging in his chest. This woman meant more to him than life itself. “Phoebe,” he murmured as he found her mouth again. But this time, the kiss was tender, soft, searching. His lean hand found her cheek and traced it while he kissed her.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he heard a sound like purring. He was so involved in the taste of Phoebe that he didn't realize a car had stopped beside them. Before he could draw back from her, there was a perfunctory tap on the window and the door opened abruptly.

Deputy Sheriff Drake Stewart shook his head, grinning. “I knew it was you when I saw the fogged up windows,” he began.

Phoebe was flushed and breathless. Cortez let her go and sat up straight, his chest rising and falling on a bemused breath.

“Don't you work?” he asked Drake.

Drake grinned. “Now, here I was just about to ask you that same question,” he remarked. “We had a call from your crime unit. They were worried about you because you said you'd be right back.”

Phoebe straightened her denim jacket, glanced at
Drake's amused expression, and cleared her throat. “I fainted and he was reviving me,” she said deadpan, using the explanation he'd suggested to her the other time they got caught in the car in a compromising situation.

Cortez burst out laughing. “Phoebe, you can't faint when you're sitting down,” he explained.

“Turncoat!” she exclaimed. She pointed at Drake. “He was buying it!”

“No, he wasn't,” Drake said, chuckling. “Listen, you guys had better get going. It's blowing snow,” he added, holding out a gloved hand palm-up to demonstrate the precipitation. It wasn't really surprising to have snow in the last week of November in the North Carolina mountains.

“We're already gone,” Cortez replied. He hesitated. “We've got an assault victim in the hospital—Walks Far from Bennett Construction,” he added. “If this stash we're investigating is what I think it is, Phoebe's life is going to be at risk even more than before. How about doubling the patrols near the motel where we're staying and the museum?”

“I already have,” Drake assured him, sobering. “I heard about the assault on my police radio. You watch your back,” he added.

“You do the same,” Cortez replied.

He pulled out of the parking lot, glancing at Phoebe
with indulgent amusement. “No need to look so embarrassed,” he told her. “Drake's human.”

She cleared her throat. “Of course.”