Cherry Adair - T-flac 09 (20 page)

“
Not
dog bites on your ass. Shrapnel from the explosion.”

She nodded, sucking in air.

“Damn it, you’re starting to hyperventilate.” Without warning he swung her up in his arms and carried her over to the bed. “I want to hear this, but let me hold you, okay?” He lowered her to the head of the
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bed. “Nobody is ever going to hurt you again. I swear it.”

Heather scooted back to lean against the wall. She pointed firmly to the foot of the bed. Caleb shot her an amused look and retreated. He promptly placed her bare feet in his lap.

“Let me finish this before you make crazy promises.” How could she explain the situation to Caleb when she didn’t fully understand all the ramifications herself? “It could be anyone, I suppose. My, uh, father was mixed up with some shady people.”

“As in drugs?” He cupped one heel and started drawing his thumb up and down her sole. “Gambling?

Why would a business associate of your father want to kill
you
?”

“I don’t know,” she said, adding a little bite to her voice. Now what? He was not going to buy that she hadn’t a clue. Not at all. She could tell by his patient expression.

“You must have some inkling—an
idea,
of who his enemies might be. People don’t put out a hit on someone, especially a woman, for no reason.”

Lord. He said that so…calmly.
Put a hit out.
Was her heart beating at all? She put a hand up to her throat to check. Beating so fast it was impossible to count the beats. A
hit.
That’s what her father had done to her. Since they couldn’t find
him,
they were searching for
her.
She wanted—
somehow
—to believe that all they wanted was information. She’d never believed that. Not for a second.

She dragged in a ragged breath. “The next time someone takes a potshot at me, I’ll run up and
ask
him.

Think that will work?”

Using both hands on her foot, he massaged her toes with his strong fingers. She wanted to purr.

“Someone tried to shoot you? When was this?”

“Right after I left Paris. In Hong Kong.” She hadn’t realized how dire the situation was
then.
“One of the safest cities in the world. And before you ask if it was an accident, I can assure you, it wasn’t. I had Seth and Mike with me and was shopping. I stopped to have lunch at Pacific Place in the Admiralty area. The mall was crowded. We’d just sat down in one of the restaurants when someone, using a sniper rifle
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apparently, shot at me from across the mall.”

His eyes crinkled at the corners when he narrowed them. Not laugh lines. He was serious now. His fingers stilled on her foot. “Were you hit?”

She shook her head. “Just scared to death, and covered in window glass.” Scared hadn’t covered how she’d felt. Terrified spitless came fairly close.

“He could have been aiming at anyone.”

“He wasn’t. That shot was meant for me.” She’d been interviewed for hours by the local police while Seth did his own investigation. The bullet had missed her by mere inches.
They’d
had no doubt that the shooter was aiming for her either. But she’d assured the local police that there was no one trying to kill her. No reason anyone would want her dead. She’d been believable at the time, because at the time, that
was
what she believed.

When she ran again, it was with a low, make that
invisible,
profile. She’d been an idiot for going to Sonja’s party the night before the shooting. Both of her bodyguards had strongly suggested that she not go. But in her own defense she had never imagined that her father’s enemy, or enemies, would send someone after her, at least not with automatic weapons. Her father certainly hadn’t appeared to give a damn when she’d left Paris. He’d been aloof and colder than ever.

But she had certainly not given a thought to her own safety. Sonja Chin’s party had been a bigger event than Heather had anticipated, and the press had come out in full force. Her picture, always worth a ridiculous amount of money since she was the daughter of a very wealthy man, had been plastered on the front page of society rags around the world. In under twenty-four hours someone had attempted to kill her.

“Then, less than an hour later, I heard screams coming from outside my hotel.” Heart pounding, sweating with fear, she’d been frantically throwing clothes into her suitcase like a madwoman when she’d heard the screams and shouts through her open window. She recalled pulling back the curtains just enough to see down below without being seen and getting another nasty surprise. She rubbed her bare arms, feeling the same dread she’d felt then.

“A crowd was forming around a blonde in a blue raincoat similar to the one I’d worn to go out
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shopping earlier. The woman was lying on the curb in a pool of blood. Dead. Shot as she got out of a cab outside the hotel I was staying in. If not for me, that poor woman would be alive today. Her death haunts me.

“That time the guys convinced me. I didn’t wait for the police. We left by a side door, then took five separate cabs to the airport. We went to Barcelona, where Mike had friends who would help us figure out how to make me disappear. He was killed before we got to them. From there Seth took me to San Cristóbal. Way on the other side of the world! Yet
someone
messed with the brakes in my rental car.

Probably while it was parked outside my hotel. I almost went over an embankment the next day.”

“San Cristóbal? Sweetheart, those street kids would do anything to get their hands on a well-maintained rental car. You were lucky you still had tires. I believe that you believe what you’re telling me. And if this
is
the case, then we’ll do something about it. I promise. But consider this for a moment. If someone had wanted you dead—Let me restate that. If a
professional
had wanted you dead, he wouldn’t have messed with your brakes. The car, with you in it, would have been a fireball.”

Heather gave him a cool look, when inside she felt hot and agitated. He didn’t believe her. “I guess you’re just going to have to take my word for it that it was an intentional attempt on my life. Again.”

She shuddered. The only reason she hadn’t gone straight off the edge of that embankment was because Seth had been sneezing with allergies and had been driving slowly. One more curve, another two miles, and the grade would have changed from fairly flat to a steep downhill stretch over a suspension bridge spanning a ravine. Then it wouldn’t have mattered, no matter how slowly they’d been driving.

“I believe that you believe it. And that’s good enough for me. What were you doing in San Cris?”

“Getting new papers.” New passports—plural, as well as the appropriate driver’s licenses for the USA, Europe, and Japan. She hadn’t had much in the way of clothing. Her suitcase had been filled with the cash she’d taken from her father’s safe in Paris. And all of her mother’s and her own jewelry.

“Ah. A good place to do so. Smart move. Then you came here to San Francisco?”

She had a fleeting thought: How did a tractor parts salesman from Oregon know about the underbelly of San Cristóbal? “Ah—From there I went to Utah. Then Arizona. Las Vegas, then Portland. Florida, then New Jersey, then Arizona again.
Then
California. First Los Angeles, then Santa Barbara, then

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Sacramento, then here.”

“Excellent evasive technique. Did they try again?”

“I lost them.”

“Not if they were professionals.”

That’s why she knew that eventually, they
would
catch up with her. It was just a matter of time. “Thanks.

That doesn’t scare the shit out of me or anything.”

“Sweetheart, is it possible that you’re being a little paranoid? The car bomb was on a rental car. Could have been rigged for someone else. A car accident in a place like San Cristóbal? Two shooting instances that close together? I don’t blame you for thinking it was all meant for you.”

“I’m not paranoid if someone really is after me.”

“The police in Hong Kong believed the shooter was a hit man,” Heather said tightly. “So do I.”

Caleb saw that she truly believed what she was telling him. The difference was, she believed that
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someone was trying to kill her. And while he didn’t doubt that the shots were meant for her, he suspected that someone was trying to scare the crap out of her.

Probably as an incentive, after they grabbed her, for her to reveal her father’s whereabouts. It was what he’d do if he were a terrorist trying to track down Brian Shaw for stealing all his money. Damn. It
was
what he’d done. Tracked her down so he could find Shaw.

God damn it. He wasn’t letting her out of his sight until this was over.

Ironically, if she and her father hadn’t had a falling-out, she’d be safe as a bug in a rug with the bastard in his hideaway in Matera right now. Anyway he looked at it, he’d rather Heather were with
him.
Caleb stood and went over to her.

Startled, her eyes went huge. “What are yo—”

He reached down and scooped her off the bed. “I need to hold you.” It was true. He did need to hold her. He wanted the words to be part of the seduction, but it was God’s own truth. His arms had felt empty for months. Years.

The weight of her, the familiar softness of her body cradled in his arms, made him feel…better.

No—good. Hell.
Great.
Being with Heather felt like the missing jigsaw puzzle piece of his emotions had been slotted neatly back into place.

And he was a fool if he started believing his own propaganda. He needed her as bait, he reminded himself. That was it. What he felt for her was lust.

Not love.
Lust.

Convince her I love her,he reminded himself grimly as he lowered his mouth to hers.
Convince myself
that I
don’t.

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“This isn’t going to resolve anything,” she murmured, pulling her mouth away a scant quarter inch. “Put me down. Please.”

He slid her down his body, keeping hold of her hand as he sat down on the chair she’d been in earlier, setting her on her feet between his spread knees. One hand on her butt, he eased the zipper of her jeans down. “I want to see you.”

“There’s not much to see. It’s not like there’s a window into Bean’s room—or should I say womb?—down there.” She sounded amused as she threaded her fingers through his hair and he traced the silky V of skin he’d exposed.

“He’s not ready for his big reveal yet,” Caleb told her, trying to picture a child curled beneath his hand.

His child. Their child. Jesus.

He could smell the womanly scent of her. Rich and musky, as he used both hands to peel her jeans over her hips to bare a triangle of blue lace and the smooth, silky skin of her stomach. Using his thumbs, he traced the juncture of her thighs, then the slight convex curve of her belly, refamiliarizing himself with the shape and texture of her body.

He leaned forward, and put his mouth to her cool skin, then had to remain still as the heady fragrance of her arousal enveloped his senses and made him hard enough to hurt.

“I missed you.” Her voice was husky and her fingers tightened in his hair. “Missed
this.
”

Oh, yeah. So had he.

Sliding off the bed to kneel at her feet, he trailed a path of kisses from her navel to the edge of sky-blue lace riding low across her hips. Using both hands, he stripped her jeans down her long beautiful legs as he pressed his open mouth to her veiled mound.

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Heather put her hands on his shoulders for balance as she kicked off her jeans. “Caleb—” Her voice trailed away as he nuzzled his mouth against her intimate folds.

He got rid of the tiny barrier between his mouth and what he wanted by thinking the scrap of lace gone.

Gripping her hips, he plunged his tongue deep, touching and teasing her intimately. Her taste was richer, more exotic than before, which in turn made him hornier than he ever remembered being.

He wanted to devour her. Sucking her clit between his teeth, he felt the bite of her short nails digging into his shoulders. She gave a sharp cry of pleasure, and her body vibrated beneath his onslaught, telling him her climax was inching closer.

Using his fingers to spread her open, Caleb stroked his tongue more deeply, alternating the rhythm of his penetration until she cried out, coming apart beneath his mouth.

While her body quaked in his arms, Caleb shimmered them to the bed. Stretching out full-length, he tucked her against his side, listening to her erratic breathing, and watching the pulse throb at the base of her throat. He stroked her hair as her breathing evened out some. He wanted to sink into her body and ride her hard. He was desperate to make love to her fast. And slow. And every speed in between.