Every Move She Makes (23 page)

“Reed?”

“No postmortem, babe.”

She shook her head, then cuddled against him, a myriad of feelings bombarding her. She cared about this man—cared more than was good for either of them.

He kissed her temple, then draped his arm possessively over her belly. “Get some sleep. We both need a little rest before we go at it again.”

“I shouldn’t stay. I should go.” But actions didn’t follow her words. She lay cocooned in his arms, sated and safe.

How odd that she should feel so utterly, completely safe lying naked in the arms of a convicted murderer.

He woke with a start. The tape player he’d borrowed from Briley Joe had kicked off, ending the sexy jazz tunes. But a heavy rain beat down on the metal roof and thunder rumbled overhead. The lights he hadn’t bothered to turn off hurt his eyes. He eased out of bed and walked across the room to switch off the overhead light and the lamp, then closed the bathroom door more than halfway, so that only a two-foot panel of light spread across the floor. He reached down in the plastic cooler, retrieved a beer from the melting ice, and popped open the can. He sipped on the cold liquid as he headed back across the room. Then he sat on the side of the bed and drank his beer while he watched Ella sleep.

He’d had her twice, but he still wanted her. Maybe more now than ever. He didn’t understand this craving for such rare pussy. Why wouldn’t Ivy or somebody like her do just as well? Any woman should do—any willing female who would spread her legs for him. But that wasn’t the case. He wanted Ella. Only Ella. He wanted her every way a man could want a woman and then some. He’d nearly lost it when she told him that he was the first man who’d ever gone down on her. That confession made him want to give her more pleasure than she’d ever known. And her admission that no man had ever brought her to a second orgasm had given him a heady sense of power and pride.

He reached out, lifted a lock of her silky black hair, and curled it about his index finger. Ella was one fine-looking woman, and responsive to his every touch—as if he and he alone had the ability to bring her to life.

They were as wrong for each other as two people could be. The judge and the ex-convict. The housekeeper’s son and the senator’s daughter. If the truth hadn’t been so sadly, pathetically true, he would laugh.

Ella’s eyelids flickered. When she awoke, would she leave? Would she look at him with regret in her eyes? He didn’t want her to go. Not until he’d slacked his desire for her. She opened her eyes and looked up at him, then smiled.

He loved her smile.

“Reed?”

“Yeah?”

“You didn’t poison my daddy’s three hunting dogs last night, did you?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Reed drew back, moving away from her, a wounded look in his eyes—eyes that only moments ago had been gazing at her so tenderly.

She realized instantly that he was innocent, that he honestly didn’t know anything about the deaths of her father’s beloved dogs. “Reed, I—”

He shot up off the bed, gloriously naked. “Don’t bother.” He snapped the words. “I take it that somebody killed Webb Porter’s hunting dogs, and of course, I’m the number one suspect.” He glared at her. “Is that why you came here—to accuse me? What happened, honey, did you get a little sidetracked by your lust for my body?”

“Don’t do this. Please, let’s don’t say things that we’ll regret later.” She started to rise from the bed, but became acutely aware of her nudity. What the hell? He’d not only seen every inch of her, he was personally acquainted with the territory. She crawled out of bed, stark naked.

Reed’s facial muscles tightened, giving him the look of a dangerous predator. “Lady, the only thing I regret is screwing you twice.”

She couldn’t endure his cold, unemotional stare. The man who knew her body better than she knew it herself had instantly become a stranger—a frightening stranger.

“I’m sorry.” She reached over and laid her hand on his chest.

He jerked away from her. “Not as a sorry as you will be if you come up pregnant.” His sudden smile mocked her. “I didn’t use a condom again tonight, Miss Ella. Now, wouldn’t that be something if I knocked you up?”

“Go ahead and lash out at me,” she told him. “If it makes you feel any better. I suppose I deserve it. But I just wish you’d listen to me. I’m sorry I asked about Daddy’s hunting dogs.” Her fingers itched to touch him, to grab him and pull him to her. But she didn’t dare touch him. Fury radiated from him. Strong and deadly. “I realize now that when I decided to come here tonight I told myself I needed to know the truth, that I had to come here and confront you personally about the dogs. But that was just a lie I told myself. The truth is…the truth is—”

“You want to know what the truth is?” He grabbed her upper arms, his fingers pressing hard enough to hurt. When she winced, he instantly loosened his hold. “The honest to God truth is that I did not kill Junior Blalock. I haven’t written you any letters or made any threatening phone calls or sent you flowers with green snakes. And I sure as hell didn’t kill Webb’s hunting dogs.”

“I believe you. And I’m sorry I asked about the dogs. It’s just that I loved Beau and Stonewall and Lee, and I needed to be sure that the man I…that you hadn’t poisoned them.”

“God damn it, I’d never hurt innocent animals.”

Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. She nodded. “Someone did. Someone poisoned those wonderful dogs. Daddy and I raised them from puppies.” Tears trickled down her cheeks. “I loved them almost as much as Daddy did. Stonewall was the runt of his mama’s litter and I bottle-fed him.” Ella swallowed her tears.

Reed stared at her. She could barely see the blurry outline of his body through her tears. When he touched her, she jumped.

“Don’t cry, babe.”

“Reed…”

He encompassed her in his embrace, his strong arms comforting her. She loved the feel of him, the power of his big body. While she wept against his chest, he cradled her buttocks and lifted her upward until they touched intimately.

“I’m an insensitive asshole,” Reed said. “About those things I said a couple of minutes ago—”

She kissed him, then pulled back and smiled at him, her face damp with tears. “You were trying to hurt me because I had hurt you. I understand.”

He kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her chin, then licked the teardrops from her eyelashes. “I don’t want to hurt you. Not ever. What I want is to protect you from anything and anyone who would harm you. Looks like I’d better start with myself.”

“I don’t want to hurt you either,” she said. “If you’ll let me, I’ll help you find out who really killed Junior Blalock. Will you let me help you?”

He grinned, but this time there was no anger or sarcasm associated with the smile. “Your folks aren’t going to like the idea of their little girl getting involved with a man like me.”

“I’m not a little girl.” She rubbed herself against him. “I’m a woman.”

“You sure are,” Reed agreed.

His penis swelled to life between them. Ella sighed, loving the feel of him. When he took her hand and led her toward the bed, she hesitated when she noticed the time glowing brightly on the small digital alarm clock sitting on the floor beside the bed. It would be daylight soon. She had spent the night with Reed.

“I should go home,” she told him.

“Want to sneak in before anyone realizes you’ve been gone all night?”

“Can you understand?”

“Yeah, I can understand,” he said. “Just tell me something, Ella. Are you ashamed that you spent the night with me.”

“No!”

“But you wouldn’t want the whole town to know, would you?”

She sighed. He had her dead to rights. No, she didn’t want people to know about her involvement with Reed. “I’m sorry, but—”

“You’re a Porter, a circuit court judge and a lady.” He poked her shoulder repeatedly, inching her backward until he toppled her onto the bed. “You can stay another thirty minutes, can’t you?”

“Yes.”

Her compliance signaled Reed to take action. Within seconds he had joined her on the bed, lifted her up to straddle him, and impaled her with his stiff sex.

“Come on, babe, one last wild ride for the road.”

Ella unlocked the back door, then moved through the kitchen as quietly as possible, hoping she wouldn’t awaken anyone. Bessie never arrived before six o’clock, and there was no reason why the rest of the household wouldn’t still be asleep. As she headed upward, the back stairs creaked slightly, the whine echoing in the stillness of the dawn hour. When she reached the top of the stairs, she sighed. Just a short walk down the hall to her room and she was home free. No one need ever know that she’d stayed out all night.

Her hand hovered on the crystal doorknob to her bedroom door, but before she grasped it, she heard footsteps behind her. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw her father coming toward her. Uh-oh! She knew how she looked—as if she’d spent the night making mad, passionate love. Wrinkled. Mussed. Tired. Sated. And if she could smell sex on herself, then her father would, too. Her heart sank. She supposed she could lie to him and tell him she’d been with Dan, but her father would know better. And she’d never lied to her father, not once in her entire life. She wasn’t about to start now.

“You look like hell,” Webb said.

“I’m a grown woman, and if choose to stay out all night, it’s nobody’s business,” she told him.

“Agreed.” His gaze traveled over her. “You’d better get a shower and change clothes. You wouldn’t want your mother to see you looking like that.”

Ella nodded, relief flooding through her. “Thanks, Daddy. For not asking any questions.”

“None of my business, remember?” But there was no warm smile, no twinkle of devilment in his eyes.

“You know, don’t you?” The sudden realization that her father was probably aware of where she’d spent the night, and with whom, unnerved her.

“Is it more than sex?” he asked.

Ella swallowed. “I honestly don’t know.”

“I don’t approve.”

“I know.”

“You’re playing a dangerous game with a dangerous man. You could get hurt. I can’t let that happen.”

“Daddy, please—”

“Take your shower.”

“We’ll talk later, okay?”

He nodded, then turned and went back to his room. Ella opened the door and went straight through to the bathroom. As she stripped off her clothes, she encountered the strong scent of Reed Conway, as if it were embedded in her skin. She tossed her dress and panties in the laundry hamper, turned on the shower, and stepped under the lukewarm spray. As she began to scrub her body, she recalled the feel of Reed’s hands, the touch of his mouth and tongue, the power of having him deep inside her.

“Is it more than sex?” her father had asked.

She didn’t want it to be more. If it were only sex between Reed and her, it would simplify this untenable predicament she was in. But if she were totally honest with herself, she would have to admit that she truly feared that it
was
more than sex. Much more. Heaven help her.

Judy Conway sat at her kitchen table, a cup of strong coffee in her hand. She hadn’t slept more than a couple of hours all night. Even though she trusted Mark Leamon and knew he would never do anything to hurt Regina, Judy couldn’t help wondering what had happened between Regina and her boss last night. Her daughter had been upset and angry when she’d run away from the Carlisle house yesterday. And Regina had every right to be outraged at seeing her mother sharing a passionate kiss with a married man.

What could she say to Regina? How could she ever explain without being totally honest? She had sworn to herself that she would never reveal the identity of Regina’s father to anyone, not even Regina herself. Too many lives could be destroyed if the truth ever came out. Poor Carolyn Porter would be devastated. And Webb’s political career would be ruined.

When Judy heard two cars drive up outside, she set her cup on the table, jumped to her feet, and raced to the door. Glancing through the glass panes in the kitchen door, she watched Mark get out of his car and rush to open the driver’s door of Regina’s Honda. Then he took Regina’s hand in his. The two of them looked into each other’s eyes, exchanging a lovers’ glance. Suddenly Judy felt like a voyeur, inappropriately glimpsing a very private moment. She opened the door, walked out onto the back porch, and waited as the couple approached.

“Good morning,” Judy said, trying to make her voice sound cheerful.

“Good morning,” Mark replied.

Judy noted that he still held Regina’s hand and couldn’t help wondering if Regina held on to him so tightly because she felt that Mark was her lifeline. “I’ve got coffee. And if y’all are hungry, I can fix breakfast.”

“Thanks, but we’ve already eaten,” Mark told her as he and Regina stepped up on the porch. “I made my specialty—ham-and-cheese omelets.”

Judy tried to avoid eye contact with her daughter, afraid of what she might see in her child’s eyes. Hatred? Condemnation? But as Judy allowed her gaze to casually glimpse Regina, she became even more convinced that something of a sexual nature had transpired between Regina and Mark. Her daughter’s suit was wrinkled, her hair slightly untidy, and her face devoid of makeup.

“I think you should know that I didn’t want to come home this morning,” Regina finally said. “But Mark convinced me that I should give you a chance to explain what I saw at the Carlisle house yesterday.”

When Judy exchanged a glance with Mark, she saw sympathy in his eyes. “Thank you, Mark. I appreciate your being there for Regina last night. I knew you’d take care of her.”

“I think you should know that I love Regina,” Mark said.

“And I love him, too,” Regina informed her mother.

“I couldn’t be happier for both of you.” Judy longed to put her arms around her child, to hug her and kiss her. She, better than anyone, knew how much Regina longed to love and be loved, to be capable of a normal relationship with a man. Had Mark and Regina made love last night? Judy wondered. Was the dark, damaging sexual fear buried deep in her daughter’s soul now vanquished?

“Judy, I think this morning would be a good time to explain everything to Regina,” Mark said.

“Yes, you’re right. Come on inside.” The couple followed her into the kitchen. She took a deep breath. “I’m not a promiscuous woman. I’ve had sex outside of marriage with only one man”—she glanced meaningfully at Regina—“with your father, whom I loved with all my heart.”

Regina opened her mouth to speak, but Judy spoke first. “I made a vow to never reveal his identity, and I intend to keep that vow. I’m sorry. But I can tell you this about what you saw yesterday. I’m not having an affair with Webb Porter. He and I dated years ago, when I was in high school. When his family disapproved of him dating a girl from the wrong side of town, we broke up and I married Reed’s father, and later on Webb married Carolyn. But we’ve always had…feelings for each other. I’m afraid that yesterday, we let those feelings get out of hand.”

“But why, Mama?” Regina asked. “I don’t understand. How could you care about the man who prosecuted Reed, the man most responsible for my brother having to spend fifteen years in prison?”

“I don’t know exactly how it happened,” Judy admitted. “One minute Webb and I were talking, and the next thing I knew…It was a terrible mistake, and I am so very sorry that you saw what happened.”

“I don’t know if I believe you or not,” Regina said. “I’ve spent my entire life defending you—to myself and anyone who dared say anything against you. I want to believe that my father was your one and only illicit lover, that you haven’t been with countless men. That you aren’t the whore Junior told me you were the night he tried to rape me.”

“Oh, Regina.” Emotion lodged in Judy’s throat, almost choking her. The pain of knowing that she had brought Junior Blalock into their lives, that she had allowed herself to be seduced by his good looks and boyish charm, made her sick to her stomach. She had unleashed a monster on her children, and to this day, both Reed and Regina were paying for her monumental mistake.

“I knew he was lying. I knew when he said that I’d turn out to be a whore just like my mama that he had to be lying.” Regina turned to Mark, who opened his arms to her.

Tears welled up in Judy’s eyes. “Junior Blalock was a mean, worthless piece of trash who nearly destroyed us. I didn’t have the courage to leave him because I was terribly afraid of him. I’d give my life if I could go back and undo the things he did. If I had it to do over again, I wouldn’t have married him.”

Regina glanced up from where she had her face buried against Mark’s chest. She sobbed softly, then eased out of Mark’s embrace and went to her mother, stopping when only inches separated their bodies.

“I’m not a whore,” Judy said. “I’ve been with only three men in my entire life. Reed’s father, who was my first husband. Your father, whom I loved. And Junior.” At the mention of her former husband’s name, a cold numbness set in deep within Judy.