Key West (11 page)

Sonnie closed her eyes again. Loneliness and need and desperation could brew up a fine concoction of lies, of lovely imaginary foolishness. But she would forgive herself for her longing.

Very carefully, watching through narrowly slitted eyelids, she settled a hand on the side of his face, his ear. The tips of her fingers met his curly black hair and she was glad he didn’t cut it short. She was careful to allow her hand to be as limp as his.

So there they were. And for as long as it took him to break from sleep, she would pretend she slept also.

Despite flamboyant bones that flared at his cheek and jaw and swept straight down his nose, except for the slight evidence of
an
old break, despite all that, his face was slender. Like a voyeur, Sonnie peered at his dark, arched brow, and at his mouth.

A mouth that must have kissed so many women.

She shut her eyes again. He would never kiss her. He wouldn’t be touching her so intimately now if he knew what he was doing.

She didn’t need him as a lover.

Just the word heated every inch of her skin.

She needed his help to prove whether she was right or wrong in thinking that out there, almost within the reach of her struggling mind, was a truth that would set her free. First it would make her heart as crippled as her body, but in the end it would set her free.

Chris Talon was going to do what she wanted him to do...Why him rather than someone else? Because she felt connected to him. The more he protested that he didn’t want to work for her, with her, the more she felt him struggle with the reverse conviction. And she believed what Roy said: Chris was a good man who had had some bad breaks, and he needed her as much as she needed him.

She would find out what had broken the man, what had brought him low enough to call himself washed-up. Then maybe, just maybe, and only as a friend, she could return the favor and help him.

If she asked Roy to do it, he’d kick Chris out of his little hideaway and then she’d...No, she couldn’t, wouldn’t. But she hadn’t given up on getting him tο stay here with her. After all, his virtue wouldn’t be compromised.

She smiled and gritted her teeth. Her nipple became erect against his palm, and a sharp, aching reaction traveled its natural path. A moment, and then she wanted to press his other hand between her legs.

Sonnie thought about Frank, her husband. Until she heard otherwise she was married to him. Thoughts and feelings couldn’t always be controlled. Actions should be.

His hand convulsed on her breast. He squeezed, then held still.

Sonnie dared another peek at him.

Sleepy hazel eyes blinked. That one visible brow shot down in a frown. He looked sideways at her slack wrist, then toward his hand on her breast, then upward. She made sure her own eyes were closed and that she breathed gently and evenly.

She thought he murmured, “Geez,” but he didn’t make any sudden moves.

They remained where they were, Sonnie knowing they both thought about the next move.

Chris slid his hand, millimeter by millimeter, from her breast, and Sonnie couldn’t control the arching of her back. But she didn’t open her eyes. The body could react in sleep, so she was asleep and reacting to a warm male palm, and very long, warm male fingers, sliding slowly over her aroused breast.

Too soon it was over, and she stretched in her “sleep” and turned enough to let her arm fall away from him.

Slitting her eyes once more, she studied him through her lashes. He held up his hands, studied them before letting them fall into his lap. The sheets were tossed aside and he studied her minutely from her feet to her face. With his head on one side and an unreadable expression in his eyes, his gaze settled on her face. He ran his fingers through his hair, never looking away. His nostrils flared and the breath he drew in was long, so long. He parted his lips and rested the tip of his tongue on the edges of his upper teeth.

That expression was so obvious, even to a woman who hadn’t even thought about sex for a long time. He was aroused.

Why should that thrill her? It just did thrill her. She was only human.

Time to wake up, sleeping pretender.

She opened her eyes and looked directly at him—and almost smiled at the faint color that rushed across his cheekbones. “Hi,” he said. “Good morning.”

She smiled and said, “Good morning. You slept in that chair all night?”

“I promised I would. I keep my promises.”

‘Oh, Chris, I’m sorry.’’ She scooted to sit up, barely managing to grab her pajama bottoms before they slipped all the way off. With a sheepish grimace, she lifted her bottom from the bed and made sure she was properly covered.

His eyes remained in the region of her hips for a second or so too long.

“I’m really sorry for what I put you through,” she said. “You remember it? All of it?”

“I think I do. It gets clearer every time.”

With his hands laced behind his neck, he stretched, and while he stretched he continued to regard her. No trace of sleepiness remained. “Have you ever spoken to the police about this?”

“About visions and voices? You used to be a cop, Chris. What would you have said to someone who came in talking about that kind of thing?”

He sniffed, and bent toward her so suddenly that she jumped. “I’d have offered them a ride home and suggested to whomever they lived with that a psychiatric evaluation was in order.”

If he hoped the hard-nosed approach would get rid of her, he was wrong. “Okay. A fair answer. What if the person in question lived alone and didn’t have anyone she could trust to get her some good help?”

“Then I’d just have to give the ride home and hope for the best. The cops aren’t baby-sitters. And the law doesn’t allow us...doesn’t allow them to take people off the streets for being disturbed. Not unless they’re creating a public nuisance of the threatening variety.”

More than once his attention went to places other than her face. But that was just a man thing. She was nothing more than a nuisance to him.

“What would it take to get you to work for me?”

“So blunt?” He shook his head. “Ι’ve already told you I’m not for hire.”

“Το get you to work for me for free, then?” She raised her chin. “Or for whatever you need or want. You’re alone; so am Ι. I don’t want anything from you but an honest shot at helping me run down some information. I could look after you. Would it be so bad to have meals cooked? I’m a good cook.”

“I like the food at the Nail.”

“It’s junk. And I’d look after your clothes and all the regular stuff.”

“I’m real good at the regular stuff. I manage to live in a small space and be the tidiest man alive.”

Sonnie Keith Giacano had a reputation for being quiet and unassuming. Time to blow that one. “Keep your place at Roy and Bo’s so you can get away whenever you want to. But move in here and have as much of the house as you want. No charge except a listening ear and an analytical mind. Roy says you’ve got the most analytical mind he’s ever come across.”

“Roy thinks the sun shines out of my...head. According to him, I’m also Van Cliburn’s successor, and a few other unlikely things. But that’s what being brothers is all about. You love each other without reservation. Roy’s a great guy. I couldn’t have a better brother.”

“You won’t get any arguments out of me. He’s one of God’s dearest people. He knew I didn’t need a job. But he also knew I needed something, and he jumped in with a shot in the dark. And it was the right shot. I needed an opportunity to be around people, where Ι could listen and learn what was going on in Key West. One day, when this is all over, I’m going to think of something wonderful to do for Roy and Bo.”

His expression softened. “I do believe you’re a sweet lady.”

Those few simple words took her breath away.

“I also think you’re generous and kind—and muddled as hell.”

She drew up her knees and crossed her arms on top. Then she propped her chin and smiled at him.

“What?” His chin jutted. “What’s with the grin? I call you muddled and you grin.”

“What would you expect from a nutcase?”

“I need to go.”

This time she was the one to make the sudden move. She shot out a hand and gripped his shoulder. “If I’m sweet and generous and kind, why don’t you move in and help me? I’ve got a piano. I’ll get it tuned.”

He covered her hand on his arm, and Sonnie’s stomach made a loop. “You ask too much, Sonnie, girl. I’m on the run and you want me to commit to a live-in setup with a lady—admittedly a lovely lady—but a lady who comes with more baggage than just about anyone I ever met. And why would my living with you be necessary anyway?”

This time she wouldn’t lie even a little bit. “Because I’m very afraid. I don’t know when I’ll wake up in the night screaming again, and seeing sheets of flame, and faces telling me to die.”

“You’re doing a great job of persuading me.”

She ignored the barb. “But I don’t believe those things happen for no reason. I think the accident I had wasn’t the way it went into the police reports. I believe someone will try to stop me from searching for the truth because I’d mess things up for them. What I don’t know is why exactly I think that, or what the truth of it could possibly be.”

“Maybe the truth of it is exactly what is in the books.”

She shook her head. “Maybe it is. But if so, where do the voices come from, the threats?”

“What about all those reports from the time. Police? Medics? Fire?”

“They’re there.”

“But it was ruled an accident? No suggestion of foul play?”

“The reports say I was driving a Volvo station wagon, lost control, and drove into a wall about a mile from the airport. They say I was doing about forty at impact and that I ought to be dead. I was thrown out.” She swallowed, but wouldn’t allow herself to stop. “I went to the airport to meet Frank. He’d called unexpectedly to say he was coming here on business. Then—so I’m told—he wasn’t on the plane. It was poor Romano who came and told me Frank had been abducted. Because I was...I was pregnant, they think I snapped and that’s how it all happened.”

Chris watched her, unblinking. He took her hand from his shoulder and wound their fingers together.

“I was stabilized here, then airlifted out to Miami. There was so much swelling in my brain that they thought I’d never regain consciousness. Then my father brought in a surgeon who did a procedure tο release the pressure, and I started to show signs of improving.”

“Υοu poor kid,” Chris said. “I’m sorry about—”

“Yes, I know. Everyone was. But while I was recovering someone kept trying to send me back where I’d come from. Back along the path toward death.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I think I do. You don’t have to. Just prove the truth to me, one way or the other.”

He stood up.

Sonnie kept hold of his hand. “Please. If I can’t find someone to be on my side—all the way—I’m going to end up in a sanitarium.”

“Your family won’t allow that.”

“They believe what professional people tell them. I think there’s someone out there who has a really good reason not to want me to cast any doubt on the official story of that night. And I think they’ll get at me through the people who love me most—my family.”

He looked at their joined hands. His made hers look ridiculously small.

“Take a while to decide,” she said, scrambling to stand beside him. “And you’re not leaving this house without some breakfast.”

“I don’t eat breakfast.”

“That’s not healthy.”

The expression that passed over his features unnerved her. Such sadness.

“At least have some coffee.”

He tipped up his head and sighed. “That sounds great, but I feel like the bum I’m supposed to be. That’s a bum rap because I’m a clean bum, I’ve got to shower.”

“There you are.” She indicated the bathroom. “Shower. I’ll make coffee and then you can go on your way and I won’t bother you again unless you tell me you’ve changed your mind and you’ll help me.”

His grimace made him look younger. “You don’t know how to give up. Ma’am, I don’t know whether I like that about you, or hate that about you. I’m thinkin’ I should be grateful you’re not an enemy.”

“There are plenty of towels in there, and soap and shampoo. I’d offer you clean clothes, but mine wouldn’t fit.” She gave him the first impish grin she’d felt like giving anyone in too long.

“Okay. You win—but only the bit about the shower and coffee.”

Once he was in the bathroom with the door shut, she combed her hair and put on some lipstick and mascara. Unfortunately she wasn’t one of those women who could even pretend a scrubbed face looked wonderful.

Why bother to change out of her pajamas? He’d seen her in them. And felt her in them…

The glow she experienced when she went down the stairs wasn’t all embarrassment, but she would have to get rid of any sexy thoughts with regard to Mr. Talon. He reacted as any man would, but she’d never be his type.

Sun shone through kitchen windows that rose to overhead skylights. The purple bougainvillea that grew from the side of the house and across the veranda roof made a canopy over the windows. The day was a sparkling, showy affair, and for the first time in months, Sonnie felt like singing.

Hitching repeatedly at her pajama bottoms, she started the coffee, set out mugs, and cut up fruit. Then she assembled a bowl of yogurt, some muffins, and cream and sugar. She set them all on the black granite top of the central island, then found red floral place mats and napkins and set them side by side.

She heard a key turn in the front-door lock.

It took all her restraint not to call for Chris.

“Sonnie, you here? It’s me, Billy. I’ve brought a friend of mine to meet you.”

She made fists on the granite. All her life she’d walked in Billy’s shadow, powerful, flamboyant Billy’s shadow. This time she’d told her where she was going because she cared too much about her family to leave without a word. And she’d asked to be left alone. Already Billy had sent Romano here—Sonnie would swear to it. Now she’d actually ignored Sonnie’s very definite wishes and followed her to Key West.