Into the Whirlwind (19 page)

She reached up and gently touched his cheek. “Did it work?”

His heart was pounding. His chest ached. “No.” Hauling her hard against him, he kissed her, a long, deep, saturating kiss, his tongue sweeping in to claim her, his body rigid against hers.

He kissed her and ached for her, and still he wanted more.

He took a step back, drew in a shaky breath. Braced his feet apart and crossed his arms over his chest. “You want this? Take off your clothes.”

Her eyes locked with his, but she didn't hesitate. Her jacket went first. She pulled off the black scoop-neck top she wore underneath, shed her black lace bra.

His erection throbbed. God, she had the prettiest breasts, full and round, perfectly formed.

“Lose the rest,” he demanded.

Meg sat down on a rock beside the blanket and pulled off her boots. The leather pants molded to her body, but there was a band of black elastic down each side, making them comfortable to wear and easy to remove.

He went hard to the point of pain as she peeled them away, leaving her naked except for a tiny scrap of black lace that disappeared between her legs.

Jesus God, it was a sin for a woman to look that good.

“Take the clip out of your hair.”

She complied, then shook her head, setting the fiery mass free.

“The thong,” he said, his voice gone rough. “Take it off.”

She shimmied the little scrap of lace down over her hips and lay back on the blanket, propped on her elbows like a feast.

She gave him a wicked smile. “Your turn,” she said.

Dirk shook his head, his return smile grim. “I'm not waiting that long.” He came down beside her on the blanket, leaned over, and started kissing her. Her hands were all over him, touching, teasing his nipples, driving him crazy.

He cupped her breasts, took each one into his mouth, suckled and tasted and heard her soft moan. He stroked her, found her ready. He'd known she would be.

He felt her hands working his zipper, reaching inside to free him. He was hard as granite and ready to burst.

“Easy,” he said. There was a pair of condoms in the back pocket of his jeans. He was no fool either. Dragging one out, he sheathed himself, took a moment to enjoy the feminine sight she made stretched out in front of him. He shifted between her legs, settling there, and eased himself deep inside.

Then he was moving hard, driving deep, taking her as if he had every right.

Maybe he did. She'd seduced him bold as brass. She belonged to him—at least for now.

He drove into her, felt those long legs wrapping around him, heard her little mews of pleasure as he carried her to the peak, watched her beautiful face as she climaxed, then took her to the edge again, up and over, before he joined her in release.

When they were finished, he rolled to his back and removed the condom. Just lay there spent and wishing he had more willpower. Or maybe not.

After a while he straightened his clothes, zipped his jeans, and lay back again, enjoying the warmth of the sun on his bare chest and leather-covered thighs.

“I can't make any promises,” he finally said. “I don't trust anymore—not the way I used to. I don't know if I'll ever be able to again.”

She leaned over him, her warm breasts plumping on the muscles across his bare chest. “But you'll try? You'll give us the chance I was afraid to give us before?”

“I don't know.”

“We're good together, Dirk. At least admit that much.”

“It's just sex, Meg.”

She shook her head. “I don't think so.” She kissed his broken heart tattoo. “Will you have supper with us tonight?”

When he didn't answer, she kissed him, trailed kisses along his jaw and down the side of his neck. “You could stay the night and we could have more
just sex.
”

He fought a smile. “Food and sex with a beautiful woman. Hard offer to turn down.”

She sat up on the blanket, her breasts swinging free and arousing him again. She reached down and cupped him through the black jeans fabric surrounded by snug black leather. “Yes, I see how hard it is.”

Dirk wrapped his hands around her waist, lifted her, and settled her astride him. “I'll come to supper. In the meantime, why don't we go ahead and have a little more
just sex
right now?”

Meg laughed her throaty laugh, and the sweet sound slipped right through him. He was in deep trouble here.

Add to that, there was still a killer on the loose.

At least he'd gotten his wish. From now until it was over, he'd be the man protecting Meg and little Charlie.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Jonathan Hollander sat behind his impressive rosewood desk in the president's office at Seattle State Bank. His computer was on, the screen filled with a list of the bank's wealthiest clients. He needed money. These people had it. All he had to do was figure out a way to get it.

Hearing a light rap on the frosted glass door, he glanced up to see his secretary, Marliss Meyers, ease it open a crack and stick her head in.

“I'm sorry to bother you, Mr. Hollander, but there's a gentleman out here—”

“Use the intercom, Ms. Meyers. I've told you that before.”

“But you said if it was important . . .” She was a pretty little redhead in her late twenties, not the brightest bulb on the string, but he'd always liked redheads. The girl was ambitious. He wondered what she'd do to get ahead.

“Fine, what is it?”

“There's a gentleman to see you. His name is Thomas Calvin. He says he has an appointment, but I didn't see it on your calendar. He was very insistent, but he seemed really nice. I think I must have made an error. Shall I show him in?”

A tremor of unease moved through him. He'd been expecting to hear from Moore. He had a strong suspicion Thomas Calvin was the same man who had called himself Moore only a few days ago.

“Yes, please show him in.”

Marliss motioned behind her. Thomas Calvin smiled his thanks at her as he entered the office, and the secretary closed the door.

The man's pleasant smile faded. With his bald head and broad nose, he looked nothing at all like Thomas Moore, yet Jonathan had no doubt it was he.

“You shouldn't have come here.” Jonathan rose from behind his wide desk. “We're supposed to meet somewhere else, somewhere private. I can't risk anyone connecting us.”

Thomas Moore/Calvin scoffed. “I don't care in the least what you risk. Now sit down and pretend to do your job. That is what you mostly do so it shouldn't be much of a problem.”

Jonathan's mouth went tight. He sat back down in his chair. “What do you want?”

Thomas took a seat across from him. “It doesn't matter what I want. What Mr. Gertsman wants is what matters, and that is a check in the amount of six million dollars.”

“Five million,” he corrected.

“Six with interest. Are you prepared to repay that amount?”

“You know I'm not.”

“Since my employer assumed as much, he has decided what he is willing to accept from you instead.”

A chill trickled down his spine. Otto Gertsman was renowned in the international banking community for his ruthlessness in business. Whatever Gertsman would demand in exchange for the original three million dollars Jonathan had borrowed to recoup his stock market losses would be worth more than twice that much.

“I'm listening,” Jonathan said.

“Your wife.”

The words hung in the air. “My wife? Megan and I are no longer married.”

“Well, then, trading her as payment for your debt shouldn't be much of a problem.”

“Trading her? Otto Gertsman is willing to trade my ex-wife for three million dollars?”

“Six million.”

“For God's sake, what's he planning to do with her?”

“What Mr. Gertsman does with his personal property is no concern of yours.”

“But—”

“It's well known that Otto Gertsman has a penchant for objects of great beauty. He owns several Rembrandts; a Stradivarius violin crafted in 1721. That era is considered the golden age of workmanship and thus those instruments are the most valuable. He owns a 1936 Bugatti Atlantic worth over thirty million dollars, racehorses, the Bouvier Diamond, and a priceless Fabergé egg. As you can see, his collection is extensive, and money is no object.”

“Megan is a person, not a piece of art.”

“Your wife is an internationally famous model known for her beauty. Two years ago, she did a photo shoot in Buenos Aires, which was where Mr. Gertsman first took notice of her. The media loved her. They called her the Fire Angel because of her stunning face and flame-red hair.”

Jonathan wasn't sure whether to feel relieved or wildly afraid. “If that's all he wants, I'm certain I can arrange for Meg to meet him, have supper with him at whatever place he chooses.”

Thomas's bark of laughter grated on Jonathan's nerves. “You don't seem to understand. Mr. Gertsman likes to
possess
beautiful things. To
own
them. That includes women. In exchange for the money you are unable to repay, he expects you to deliver your ex-wife into his care—where she will remain. Indefinitely.”

Jonathan swallowed past the knot of fear in his throat. “You're . . . you're talking about another kidnapping.”

“The term is a little crass for what Mr. Gertsman has in mind. You will deliver Ms. O'Brien to a previously determined airport, where Mr. Gertsman will have a luxury jet waiting to pick her up. She will board the plane and be whisked away to his private compound. What happens after she arrives, I have no way of knowing.”

“My God.”

“We'll need to work out a strategy, of course, something that will not turn into the debacle you caused before.”

Jonathan started shaking his head. “We may not be married, but the woman is the mother of my son. I won't do it.”

“You didn't mind putting the boy at risk.”

“I thought it would be easy. I didn't know her former boyfriend was going to botch things up and get people killed.” He cast a disgusted look at Thomas. “I didn't realize you would try to kill my son.” He'd seen the news. He knew what had happened at the lake. He'd had to leave the room to go throw up.

“If I had tried to kill the boy, he would be dead.”

Jonathan straightened, worked to bolster his courage. “She's my son's mother. If something happened to her, who would take care of him?”

“Her parents are quite wealthy, as we both know, and they are completely enamored of the child. The boy would never want for a thing.”

Jonathan shook his head. “I'm sorry, I won't do it.”

“You said you'd do anything. I believe those were your words.”

“Tell Gertsman he'll have to think of something else.”

Thomas's smile turned feral. “I'll tell him you refused his very generous offer. Unfortunately for you, Mr. Gertsman rarely takes no for an answer.”

“I don't . . . don't understand. If he wants her so badly, why doesn't he just take her? We both know he has that kind of power.”

“I'm afraid you are missing the point. You are the one who owes the debt. You must be the one to repay it. You must find a way to give him the woman.”

Jonathan stood up behind his desk. “I'll get the money. I just . . . I need a little more time, is all. I can find a way if I just have a little more time.”

Thomas rose from his chair. “Your time, Mr. Hollander, has run out.” He walked to the door and pulled it open. “I'll be in touch.”

The chill returned, sliding like cold grease down Jonathan's spine. Fighting not to call the man back, he watched the door close softly behind him.

* * *

“I seduced him.”

Val's eyes widened. “What?”

“That's right. I did what you suggested—I asked him to take me for a ride on his Harley. I brought a picnic lunch and I seduced him.”

Meg and Val were sitting at the breakfast counter the following afternoon while Charlie played with his trucks in the family room.

Val grinned and started laughing. In the background, the sound of hammers and drills echoed throughout the house as the men from the alarm company Dirk had insisted she call upgraded her security system.

“It was your idea,” Meg reminded her.

“Yeah, and it sounds like it turned out to be a good one. So what happened after?”

“It was more like what happened before. I told him how sorry I was for the breakup. I told him I'd made a huge mistake and I asked him to give us another chance.”

“And Dirk said . . . ?”

Meg took a sip of coffee from the mug in her hand. The smell of chocolate chip cookies baking in the oven filled the air. “I guess it was sort of good news/bad news. The bad news is he doesn't know if he can ever feel the same way about me again. The good news is he's coming over for supper and spending the night.”

“Wow, that really is good news/bad news. The bad news is you could really get hurt. The good news is you're bound to have some really great sex.”

Meg shook her head. “The thing is, this isn't just about sex, not for me. And as much as he tries to tell me that's all it is for him, I don't believe it.”

“I think he was in love with you. It tore him up when you ended things. He had no idea it was coming. For him, it seemed to happen completely out of the blue.”

“I thought he knew the tour was all we'd ever have. I was prepared for us to end, but Dirk wasn't. I don't think he'd believe me if I told him losing him hurt me as much as it did him.”

“You're right; I don't think he'd see it that way.”

Meg sighed. “A thousand times I thought about calling him. I wanted to call him so badly. God, it took me months to get over him. The minute I saw him again, I knew I never really had.”

“You put Charlie's welfare first. That's what mothers do.”

“That's what I thought at the time.”

“Having a child could still be a problem. He's always lived on the edge. He's got no idea how to be a dad.”

“I didn't know how to be a mother before I had Charlie. Dirk was willing to take the risk before, and I should have let him. If I'd given him a chance, I would have realized he's exactly the kind of man I'd pick to be Charlie's father.”

“He's got tattoos and he rides a Harley.”

“He rebuilds houses and he's good enough to make a very decent living. He's honest, capable, and smart. And he's amazingly protective.”

“Well, he's certainly nothing like your slick-talking ex-husband. But I only met him once. You introduced us at a charity event when we were modeling. You were already divorced by then.”

Meg sipped her coffee. “Jonathan was handsome and charming. I admit I fell for him at first. Add to that, he had the pedigree my parents—mostly my dad—thought was important. Jonathan's family had lost most of their fortune, but not their place in society. He was older, sophisticated, smooth as silk. My parents both got sucked in. Now they see what a total jerk he is.”

“It didn't take you long to figure it out. You were only married a couple of years.”

“Actually, I'm embarrassed I didn't figure it out a lot sooner.”

“Yes, but if you hadn't married him, you wouldn't have Charlie.”

“True, and I could never regret my baby.”

The timer went off and Meg went around the counter to take the cookies out of the oven. She set the tray down on top of the stove to let them cool.

“Those smell delicious,” Val said, inhaling deeply.

Charlie came racing up just then, red hair flying, reminding Meg that she needed to take him for a haircut.

“Can I have a cookie? Can I?”

“It's
may
I have a cookie, and they need to cool a little first.”

He made an unpleasant, disappointed sound in his throat, and Meg laughed. “Okay, you can have one.” Grabbing a paper napkin, she wrapped the cookie in it and handed it to Charlie. “But you'd better be careful. They're still really hot.”

“What do you say to your mom?” Val coached.

“Thanks, Mama!” Charlie raced back to the family room, plunked himself down on the floor, and grabbed one of his trucks. The engine sounds he made were muffled by the cookie in his mouth.

Meg returned to her stool and Val took a sip of her coffee. “You realize if this doesn't work out with Dirk, it's going to break your heart even worse than before.”

Meg's throat tightened. “I know. When we got back to Seattle after the tour, I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought Dirk wasn't right for me and Charlie. Now I know he's exactly the right man for us. If it doesn't work . . .” She shook her head, let the sentence trail off.

They both knew how much it was going to hurt.

Val leaned over and hugged her. “Maybe he'll figure things out.”

Meg wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “Whatever happens, I have to try.”

Val set down the mug and climbed off her stool. “The afternoon's almost gone. I'd better get going.”

“You haven't forgotten you agreed to help me decide which merchandise I want for the boutique?”

“Are you kidding?” Val grinned. “I can't wait to get started. That's going to be great fun.” Reaching over the counter, she grabbed a cookie off the tray. “Now I'd better go so you can get started on dinner.”

Meg smiled. “Rose fixed lasagna. All I have to do is heat it up and make a salad.”

Val nodded. “Good, then you'll have plenty of time to seduce him again.”

Meg grinned, reached over, and grabbed a cookie. “Dirk's usually a take-charge kind of guy. I'm hoping this time he'll seduce me
.
”