In Safe Keeping (17 page)

It had to be the military. It
had
to be.

Because the only other explanation was too odious to even think about. That the threat on Laila’s life was linked to him.

11 p.m. Thursday

Laila became aware of a change in her surroundings.

The car had stopped moving. All was quiet, apart from the intermittent ticking sound of a cooling engine.

With an effort, she opened her eyes.

Evan was in the driver’s seat, watching her, one wrist resting on top of the sports steering wheel, handsome features illuminated in the blue and red glow of the dashboard.

He reached out and touched her loosely braided, freshly washed hair. ‘We’re here, sleepyhead.’

Laila leaned into his touch, breathing in his heady masculine scent and the aroma of near-new leather upholstery. They were parked in a small, underground garage, in what was obviously Evan’s apartment building.

‘You must be the only person I know who can sleep in a Porsche,’ he said. ‘The stiff suspension makes for a hard ride.’

A hard ride was
exactly
what she had in mind, but Evan was looking at her as though she had a ‘handle with care’ sticker on her forehead.

Time to fix that.

‘I like a good hard ride, with enough horsepower to throw me back in the seat.’ If that didn’t get his attention, she’d just have to stick her tongue down his throat.

His face broke into a smile. ‘Ha! Nothing like being pinned in position, huh?’

Laila nodded. ‘Less body roll.’

His eyes glittered in the intimate darkness of the cabin, and one hand moved to caress the back of her neck. The other trailed over her thigh as he leaned in close. But just when she was sure he was going to kiss her, just when she thought her heart couldn’t possibly beat any faster — the seat belt retracted over her shoulder with a whir.

‘I don’t like my women restrained.’ He captured her chin between his thumb and forefinger. ‘And I’m more interested in G-spots than G-forces — just so we’re straight.’

Before she knew it, he was out of the cabin. Seconds later, he was holding the passenger door open. ‘Let’s go.’

Out of the car, Laila watched him take her small, pull-along suitcase from the trunk.

‘You couldn’t fit your golf clubs in here,’ she said, leaning in and picking up the suit coat she’d had dry cleaned for him after the fire. She’d carried it home on Wednesday and hung it behind her bedroom door. She’d only thought of it again while she was taking a shower.

‘My clubs go on the passenger seat.’ He gave her a sexy wink and popped up the handle on her suitcase. ‘Rest assured Laila, if it’s a choice between you and my sticks, you win every time.’

Inside the elevator, he inserted a key into a lock beside the button for the fourth floor and rotated it. ‘There’s one apartment per floor. You use this key, and the elevator skips the other three floors and takes you directly into my apartment. You never have to ride in the elevator with anyone else.’

Possibilities of what they could do in a private elevator crowded her mind, but she didn’t voice those thoughts, just smiled a little. ‘Thank you for letting me stay,’ she said.

‘Are you kidding?’ The corner of his mouth turned up and he gave her that rakish grin that never failed to set her pulse pounding. ‘I don’t think either of us would have slept tonight, if I hadn’t brought you here.’

‘Do you think there’s any hope of us sleeping
now?
’

He pressed the button, and they began moving upwards. ‘I’ve never had an issue with the conflict of interest. That was all you. But I’m not taking advantage of this situation. You’ve had a terrible ordeal.’

He was unhappy with her for refusing to see a doctor. But she knew her own body and knew she was fine physically, apart from some bruises, scrapes and sore muscles.

Now, as she stepped out of the lift and into Evan’s stunning New York-style warehouse apartment, she remembered how his face had formed clearly in her mind tonight. In that moment of clarity, she’d regretted breaking up with him, regretted convincing herself their relationship was going nowhere.

She watched as he put down her suitcase and moved about the room, switching on the low-hanging, factory-style enamel lights.

Hadn’t Will’s death shown her how life could change in an instant? Hadn’t she vowed to grasp happiness and hold on tight when next it found her? When had she lost sight of that? When had she forgotten that life wasn’t a dress rehearsal, that she should live every day to the fullest?

Happiness
had
found her again in the form of Evan Barclay. But she’d sacrificed him for Scarlett Peyton, a woman she now found unpredictable, a woman willing to blackmail the husband of her children for monetary gain.

You took her case for monetary gain.

Laila’s stomach gave a sickening lurch.

That was different.

She’d taken it at the expense of her own happiness.

Did that make her some kind of martyr?

Confused thoughts swirled in her head as she stared at the herringbone ceiling, the exposed timber pillars, and the huge windows.

From this moment, she would do as Evan suggested. Put up Chinese walls, and not talk about the Peytons. If Scarlett learned of their relationship, and objected, she could darn well find herself another lawyer.

Laila watched Evan come towards her, excitement building as he closed the gap between them. She’d find another way to fund the class action. She wanted this man, wanted him in her bed, in her life — for as long as he was willing to stay there.

‘With the exception of the veranda, it’s basically one large room.’ He waved a hand around, looking flustered for the first time since she’d met him.

‘Sorry about the mess.’ He scooped up a pair of boat shoes in her path and set them to one side. ‘I wasn’t expecting, err, visitors.’

Laila glanced at the kitchen and figured he must have a cleaner. It was spotless. Apart from the shirts and jeans left draped over the back of the modular lounge, and the newspapers spread open on the breakfast bar, the entire place was spotless.

Laila smothered a smile.

Not a slob.

Just a messy boy.

‘The master suite is up there.’ He waved a hand towards a floating staircase hugging one wall and leading to a mezzanine level.

Not wanting to appear presumptuous by going up to the bedroom, Laila headed towards the modular lounge. Made of brown leather, it was arranged so it faced a large flat screen mounted on a cream brick wall.

She’d only covered half the distance when Evan was beside her, taking the coat from her hands and tossing it over the back of the lounge on top of all the other clothes. ‘Why don’t you go up to bed? I’ll take the lounge.’

‘Evan,
please
.’ All of a sudden her voice was unsteady. ‘Come with me. I need to feel your wonderful hands on me.’

He reached for her, pulling her into a fierce embrace. He didn’t kiss her, just held her tightly as she pressed her nose into the warm skin of his neck and breathed him in. So different to the man who’d attacked her.

A chill trembled down her spine.

‘Okay.’ He bent at the knees and scooped her up. ‘Come with me.’

Laila wrapped her arms around his neck as he began climbing the stairs. ‘Why do you like carrying me around?’

She smiled, thinking of the times he’d done a similar thing at her house.

He gave her a deadpan look. ‘I’m used to carrying a football.’

When she looked at him in surprise, he made a small, jerky movement with his arms, as if he was going to flick pass her.

Laila squealed and clung to him, a thrill racing through her body as they laughed together for the first time in ages.

‘The staircase can be disconcerting until you get used to it. As you can see, it doesn’t have a handrail. I don’t want you toppling off it just when I’ve got you in my lair.’

She refrained from saying she hadn’t been here because he’d never invited her. He’d brought her here tonight, and that was the main thing.

When it mattered.

When she needed him.

Laila peered over his shoulder at the floating staircase. It hugged the wall and fell away beneath them. ‘It’s looks amazing, like it’s suspended in air.’

‘
You’re
amazing.’ His tone was low and a little uneven. ‘This last week has been torture, Laila.’

He put her down, and her left hip grazed his erection. Laila caught her breath, eyes lowering to the solid bulge behind his fly.

She squeezed her thighs together, trying to curb the delicious ache between her legs. ‘Looks like you’re going to torture me in return.’

His chest rose and fell, his breathing as laboured as hers. ‘Torture’s a strong word.
Torment
, maybe…’

‘Evan.’ Laila whispered his name, unable to stand the tension any longer. ‘I had no idea how much I’d miss y…’

He kissed her, swallowing her words with an aroused groan he couldn’t hold back. One touch of her velvety lips and every nerve ending in his body was combusting. He had to physically restrain himself from grinding his rock-hard dick into her shapely hips.

He deepened the kiss, heart pounding, arteries spurting oxygenated blood through his body until it rushed in his ears and throbbed in his temples.

She moaned. Low. Deep. In her throat.

Evan’s body hardened to the point of pain.

Her lips parted, and he took advantage, sweeping his tongue inside her orchid-soft mouth and tasting her. She leaned into him, soft breasts crushed against his chest, hair smelling of frangipani and gardenia.

Then her hands slid down his back and she took a firm grip on his arse.

Fuck!
He needed to be gentle, and she wasn’t helping any.

He pulled back, rested his forehead against hers and took the band from her hair with unsteady hands. He loosened the blonde mass until the silky strands slipped through his fingers and pooled about her shoulders in soft waves.

She’d missed him this week.

He wanted to tell her he’d barely managed to stay away, that seeing her in court, and at the mediation, and not being able to touch her, was its own special kind of torture.

Instead, he said nothing, reluctant to lay all that on her tonight. And yes, if he were honest, fearing her reaction a little.

He captured her hand, linked his fingers through hers and led her over to his king-sized bed. In the subdued light she smiled that sweet smile, eyes wide and trusting, lips swollen from his kiss.

In that instant, he knew there was no turning back from this. This wasn’t about satisfying some itch for a woman he had a temporary case of the hots for. He was fascinated by her mind, as well as the sexy curves of her body. He was hypnotised by her smile as much as the rhythmic stroke of her tongue. He was as high on the subtle fragrance of her perfume as he was on the heat that awaited him beneath the black lacy panties he knew she favoured.

He was hooked.

For the first time in his life, he was hooked on one woman.

11.15 p.m. Thursday

Laila looked around Evan’s bedroom as he folded back the plush, chocolate-coloured comforter. The room had a functional, masculine feel to it.

The bed head and side tables were solid, dark wood, as was the desk with green leather inlay that stood in one corner. Even the vintage-style, green leather captain’s chair was constructed of the same dark wood.

Louvered doors leading into a walk-in robe stood open, revealing an assortment of shirts, ties, belts and shoes. Beyond that, a light shone from inside an ensuite bathroom, as if he’d left in a hurry that morning and forgotten to turn off the light. One white towel lay in a heap on the floor, another draped carelessly over the doorknob.

Besides the furniture and clothes, the only things in the room were a flat screen TV, mounted high in one corner, a green director’s lamp arching over the desk, and a digital clock and iPod dock sitting on one bedside table.

‘Sorry the place is so untidy.’ Evan raked a hand through his hair and glanced around the room. ‘I left in a hurry this morning.’

He would have been preparing for the mediation. How strange. It was only this morning but it seemed like a week ago.

Laila sighed, and pushed Scarlett’s outlandish demand from her mind. ‘Honestly, I don’t mind the mess.’ She caught her breath as his hands spanned her waist. ‘After living with a military man, it’s a relief.’

A few moments passed before Laila realised what she’d said. She bit down on her lip, appalled at the words that had come tumbling out.

‘Come on, get undressed.’ He began pulling her T-shirt free of her jeans. ‘There’s no need to feel embarrassed, or guilty.’

Minutes later, Laila slipped between the cool sheets. ‘The army breeds discipline in every facet of life. I didn’t mean to compare.’

‘Don’t beat yourself up. You made a natural observation, that’s all.’ Evan slid in beside her and took her in his arms, searing her with his body heat. ‘Besides, your approval of my mess feeds my ego.’

Laila swallowed, eyes drawn to where his erection tented the sheet. ‘So, it’s your
ego
that needs stroking?’

‘Don’t talk about stroking my anything Laila, while you’re staring at me like a hungry lioness. Otherwise, I won’t be responsible for my actions.’

Desire spiked through Laila’s body, nipples grazing his muscled chest as she raised her arms and linked them around his neck. She loved the way they were when they came together this way.

A burning heat gathered between her thighs as she pressed a lingering kiss to his warm lips. ‘Where’s the condoms?’

He pulled back a little. ‘You’ve had an awful fright. Why don’t I give you a massage?’

She kissed him again and spoke against his mouth. ‘You can. But first, I need satisfying.’

He smiled, white teeth flashing in the muted light. ‘I like the sound of that. Top drawer, your side.’

Your
side
?

She liked the sound of that.

Laila turned over and opened the drawer as warm fingers trailed a path down her spine and over the curve of her bottom.