Fever (31 page)

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Authors: Joan Swan

BOOK: Fever
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He paused there, pressed balls-deep. She tilted her hips, driving him just that much deeper and rubbing herself against him. Her body rocked with each quick breath.
“Damn, girl.” He wiped the droplet of sweat trickling down his temple on her shoulder. “I can’t keep up with you.”
“Try harder.” With only a tip of her pelvis, Alyssa drew back, dragging him out of her warm wetness, then drove him back in.
He shuddered, the pleasure shockwave rippling though his torso. “I’m not gonna last like that.”
“Good,” she said and did it again, then groaned. “Neither am I.”
He imagined every thrust even more vividly than if the lights were blazing. He saw every inch of her, heard every breath, felt every movement, tasted every sultry bit of skin and curve of lips.
“Teague.” One simple word and he knew she was on the edge, wanting to know if he was there with her.
“I’m here, baby. Let go.”
Even if he’d wanted to hold back at that point, he couldn’t have. Her orgasm pumped the climax right out of him, siphoning every ounce of energy from his body. He pressed his face against her neck to muffle the guttural sounds bubbling up from his throat.
It took what seemed like forever to come off the sexual high. He couldn’t seem to catch his breath. Didn’t want to let her down, even though his legs were shaking with the effort of maintaining their position. He wanted to stay inside her until he got hard again. Then repeat the whole amazing event. Wanted to make love to her in a bed, where he could linger and explore, then lie with her curled warm and comfortable in his arms until morning.
Alyssa groaned, but this time it wasn’t in pleasure. “What’s wrong?”
“Cramp. In my back.”
“Okay.” His hands drifted up from her butt and gripped her waist. With what felt like all the strength he had left, he lifted her enough to pull out, then set her on her feet.
Skimming his hands down her legs, he found her pajama bottoms and her top and helped her back into them, then tugged on his own shorts.
He cupped her face in his hands, swept back the hair from her face and kissed her. “Let’s sleep on the couch. I’ll wake you up before your brother—”
A creak sounded overhead. Then another.
“Someone’s up,” he whispered.
Teague felt along the wall for the doorknob, turned it slowly and nudged Alyssa into the living room, then closed the door, leaving it open only a crack to see out.
“Alyssa, why are you up?” Mitch didn’t come into Teague’s field of view, but the irritation in his voice came through loud and clear.
“Looking over the files,” she said without a hint of hesitation in her voice. He’d have to remember what a polished liar she was for future reference.
“Where are Ransom and Creek?”
“They went to bed.”
Teague couldn’t help feeling foolish, hiding in a closet like a kid. He wanted to wrap his fingers around Mitch’s neck and tell him to mind his own damn business.
“What’s in there?” Mitch asked.
“Wine closet.” Alyssa lifted her hand toward Teague’s hiding place. “I was thinking about opening a bottle.”
“You don’t need a bottle of wine; you need some sleep.” Mitch walked up to Alyssa and slid a hand around her upper arm, tugging her toward the stairs. “We need to be up and out in a couple of hours.”
She pulled out of his grasp and started toward the couch and her papers. “I’ll be right up. Just let me put these away.”
“Leave it, Alyssa. Come on. It’s three in the morning.” Alyssa cast a covert glance at the closet. Her shoulders drooped in concession. “Okay, okay.”
Teague’s heart sank. He closed his eyes and laid his forehead against the doorjamb. Above him, stairs creaked as Alyssa and Mitch headed back to their room.
Goddammit. That wasn’t what he’d wanted. The fear that he would lose her when this was all over hung heavy in his chest. Hot sex was all well and good, but he wanted more. He wanted to make himself irreplaceable to her. And the amount of time in which he had to do that was quickly ticking away.
T
WENTY-THREE
D
istressing dreams brought Alyssa awake in the passenger’s seat of the Escalade Mitch had rented for Teague and her to drive to Coos Bay that morning. She blinked against the hard sunlight slanting through the windshield and repositioned herself, glancing over at Teague.
When he had insisted on a lower-profile vehicle, Mitch had said that’s exactly what the cops would be looking for and ordered the most expensive car on the lot. Teague still wore the same tight mask he’d worn all morning. The stubborn set of his mouth indicated he was no more ready to talk about whatever was bothering him than he’d been hours earlier when Mitch and Luke had left to catch their plane to Victoria and Teague and Alyssa had started out on this road trip.
Too many things about this situation reminded her of their first tense days together—his expressions, his demeanor, his unwillingness to talk. Something was eating at him. Something she instinctively knew would ultimately drive them apart unless she faced it head-on.
She watched his profile for long seconds, working up the nerve to slice the artery on this subject.
“About last night,” she finally started with the equivalent of a shaking surgical hand, “I should have ... I mean, I should have told Mitch to mind his own business. It’s just that, I mean, I know it wouldn’t matter in the end, because he’s a professional and he’d never let his personal feelings interfere with a case, but in the back of my mind, I also know he’s your best hope of getting out of this as unscathed as possible and, well, I just ... I mean—”
“Lys,” Teague cut in, his voice soft. “You’re rambling.”
She clamped her mouth shut. Took a breath through her nose. Blew it out through her mouth. “I should have stood up to him and stayed with you. I’m sorry I didn’t.”
A smile curled one side of his sexy mouth and the fear hiding in the shadows of Alyssa’s heart eased. “You did the right thing. Your relationship with Mitch is more important than my ego.” He reached out, took her hand and brought it to his mouth for a gentle kiss. “Although, I did miss you.”
“If that’s not what’s bothering you, then what is it?”
The mask returned, and a chill spread over Alyssa’s shoulders. She didn’t like the way he could turn on and off.
“You’re keeping something from me,” she said. “What is it?”
His fingers released hers, then wrapped and rewrapped the steering wheel.
“You may as well tell me now. I’ll find out eventually, and then I’ll be really pissed.”
“We’re almost there,” he said.
“Teague.” She put her hand on his head and let it slide down the soft layer of golden hair to rest on the warm skin of his neck. “You have to trust people. Especially those closest to you. Especially me.”
He tilted his head away and sighed in frustration. “You’re going to be pissed either way. It’s a no win. There’s no point.”
She laughed, but didn’t feel any humor. “Well, now you have to tell me. I’ll never let up after that comment.”
He hesitated. “Kat isn’t in Victoria. That’s why I wanted Luke and Mitch to go there.”
“How do you know?”
“Because when I was in Rawlings’s house, he told Vasser that Tara took Kat to
Vancouver
, where his dad owned a house.”
“You probably just heard him wrong. He probably said Victoria.”
“No.” Teague shook his head. “He said it was somewhere around Queen Elizabeth Park. That’s in Vancouver.”
“Maybe he was mistaken.”
“He sent money to Tara to help her. That’s why Vasser came back. He found out Rawlings had lied to him. Rawlings said Tara loved Kat. He stood up for Tara, told Vasser to leave them alone. My gut tells me he was leading Vasser purposely off track.”
Alyssa picked up the cell phone Mitch had given her from the center console. “We need to tell Mitch and Luke. Vasser might be—”
He covered her hands. “It will take days for Vasser to get the correct addresses for the father’s real estate holdings. Vasser will be running around like a chicken, nowhere near Luke or Mitch, while I get to Kat here.”
Her hands dropped to her lap, eyes narrowed as her mind honed in on his underlying meaning. “You arm-wrestled Mitch into letting me come with you because ...” She huffed a dry laugh and looked out the windshield as Teague turned onto a residential street. “Because you thought I’d be a pushover. Because you thought that once you found Kat, you’d simply take her and run and I wouldn’t stop you like they would.”
He pulled his hand from hers and didn’t respond.
“I ...” she started, confused. “You sonofabitch.” She couldn’t work up the anger to put behind the curse.
After coming so very close to losing him and Mitch in that fire and feeling so completely out of control, so ready to do such crazy, haphazard things to save them, could she really blame him for making every insane effort to save his daughter and restore their life together the best way he knew how?
“Guessed I pissed you off good,” Teague said, studying her from his peripheral vision with suspicion as if he expected her to explode any second. “You swore.”
“More like a reaction. Your bad habits rubbing off on me.” She shook her head. “I really don’t know how to feel about that right now.”
Hurt, angry ... yet compassionate about what he’d been through. She’d have to contemplate it all later, because they were coming up on the address of Tara’s father’s home.
“There it is.” Anticipation pushed her confusion aside as she pointed to a house down the street on the right. “The one with a jungle for a front yard.”
Teague slowed, but continued past the house.
Alyssa’s gaze scanned a detached garage positioned at the back of the house. Old-fashioned, partially open, double vertical doors exposed a blue Volvo inside.
“Oh, my God, you’re right. She’s here.” She clamped onto Teague’s forearm, excitement bursting in her chest. “The car. It’s there. It’s in the garage.”
“Calm down.” He wiped a fresh burst of sweat from his forehead. “Let’s make sure.”
As Teague swung a U-turn and cruised back by the house, Alyssa worked at keeping her emotions under control. The yard was overgrown, the windows covered by interior blinds. When they passed the east side of the structure, Alyssa craned her neck to look back toward the rear of the small property. Sure enough, there it sat: a blue Volvo, the temporary dealer plates still in place.
“Did you—?”
“Yeah,” he breathed, wiping his forehead again. “I saw it.”
Half a block down, Teague made another U-turn and pulled over. He turned in his seat and studied the house. Alyssa could see the heat building inside him: Sweat broke out over his face and neck, darkening the T-shirt over his chest.
“Teague. Teague.” She reached for his forearm. Heat pierced her fingers. “Ow!” She jerked her hand away. “You’re burning again. Focus, Teague. This is not the time to lose control.”
“I’m trying.”
His intense gaze returned to the house. Alyssa dialed her brother’s cell. “Hey, we found her.”
“Wait for us,” Mitch said. “We just landed. We’re on the tarmac. Did you see them?”
Teague opened the console and pulled out the weapon and cuffs hidden there. She put a restraining hand on his arm, ignoring the burn through her skin, and shook her head at him.
“No,” she said into the phone. “But the car is in the garage.”
“Try to get a visual to confirm,” Mitch said, “but don’t spook them. We’ll be there as fast as we can. Luke will call authorities when we’re closer, when we’re sure we already have control of the scene.”
She disconnected from Mitch and looked down at the gun and cuffs. “If whatever you’re thinking involves those, think again.”
Anguish tightened his features and darkened his eyes. “You can’t really expect me to wait for them. There is no way in hell I’m going to sit here when my baby is right inside that house.”
He reached for the door handle. Alyssa tightened her grip on his arm and pulled him back. “Wait, Teague. Wait. Just think about this for a minute. Remember what happened the last time you let your emotions drive you? Kat could have been seriously hurt in that parking lot. She’s lucky she only got a bump on the head.” She pulled her hand back, shook it, then blew on her fingers. “You’re so out of control.”
Teague ground his teeth. He wiped a hand over the sweat on his forehead and looked out the windshield toward the house again. “I’m running on adrenaline here, Lys. I don’t expect you to understand, but I have to get to her.”
“You have to get to her
safely
. In this condition you could do her more harm than Tara. You’re burning my hand within seconds. What are you going to do to Kat’s tender skin?”
“I won’t touch her skin. I’ll wrap her in a blanket or a jacket or my damn shirt if I have to.”
“Look at me. Listen to me.” She fisted her hand in the chest of his T-shirt and gave it a hard shake. When his eyes finally met hers, she leveled her voice. “Let me just go look. As soon as I see them, I’ll come back and we’ll decide what to do next. Okay?”
“I should be the one to go look.”
“They’ll both recognize you instantly. If Kat sees you, she’ll go ballistic. If Tara knows you’re here, she could use Kat as a hostage. Neither of them will remember me from a two-minute exchange days ago.” She paused, put her free hand on his jaw and kept his face turned toward her. “You need to trust me.”
He swallowed. “Just a look. Three minutes.”
“Five.” She leaned in and kissed him solidly on the mouth, sealing the deal.
Alyssa climbed from the car and set a brisk pace for the house with new hopes for the future. He’d put his trust in her when he’d wanted to act on his own. A huge first step. All she had to do was see both Tara and Kat and she could return to reason with Teague.
As she neared the house, her gaze swept over the empty neighborhood. A mild wind whipped leaves in mini whirlpools, then chased them down the street. A light gray sky promised rain. No one paced their lawns with a mower. No one played basketball in their driveway. No one hauled groceries from their car.
Alyssa cut through the neighbor’s side yard and skimmed along the hedge between for cover. From there she could see the entire back side of the house, which was one flat wall with a few small windows, their blinds raised a couple of inches.
Alyssa hurried from the security of the hedge and flattened herself against the wall. Sound drifted from a window just to her left. Music?
She inched closer. No, not music. Singing. Someone was singing. It was a quiet, soothing tune, but the voice was tense and shaky. Alyssa eased forward and glimpsed inside. She saw nothing but a blank wall and a doorway leading to another room.
Maybe she was hearing things.
She changed her position and peered through the window at a different angle. Huddled in a corner, Tara lay on the floor in what looked like a makeshift sleeping area, cradling something swaddled in blankets. Excitement hitched in her chest and made it hard to breathe. Alyssa pulled back. Kat. She had to be holding Kat.
Hoping for a better view, Alyssa ducked beneath the window and darted to the other side. She held her breath, pushed onto her toes and peered past the window ledge. Yes, Kat was there, lying on the floor, tangled in blankets, asleep. But Tara was gone.
A crunch sounded behind her. Alyssa started to turn. Pain exploded in her head and radiated beneath her skull. Glass crashed somewhere in the distance. Blurred darkness swamped her, while intense flashes of light stabbed at her eyes. Her legs lost strength, and she sank toward the ground.
Someone grabbed her from behind and dragged her. Nothing was working. She couldn’t maneuver her brain, her limbs, her vocal cords. Her skull was about to rip open like a weak seam.
Something jabbed her spine. Her head hit the ground again. She clenched her eyes and fought the unconsciousness clawing at her.
“Come on, Katrina.” The voice drifted to Alyssa from a distant tunnel. An eerie singsong quality tainted the sweet tone. “Time to go. Come to mommy.”
The thought of Kat gave Alyssa the will to open her eyes. She stared at a ceiling, blinking away the darkness. As she tried to push herself up, her head spun. She whimpered, grabbed her temples with both hands and fell back to the ground.
“I told you people to leave us alone.” Tara’s voice stabbed into Alyssa’s brain. “I
told
you.”
Alyssa winced, slid her hands lower to cover her ears. A cold shiver crawled down her spine and spread like fingers into her gut. She pushed her eyes open. Tara looked down with an unconscious Kat swaddled in her arms. And the look in Tara’s eyes—Alyssa had seen it before, the same semi-absent, malevolent glimmer she’d seen in patients very high on either street drugs or meds or just plain crazy.
How much stress was too much? At what point did a person break and do the unthinkable?

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