Back in the Bedroom (4 page)

Without looking back to see her roll her eyes again, he moved forward. “And stay on the beam,” he commanded softly.

She followed, watching the lines of his sleek, smooth back, the way the black knit boxers hugged his tight butt and thighs, trying to convince herself she was so over her momentary lapse into lustville. So over him, period.

T
HE ATTIC WAS PITCH-BLACK
except for where the occasional vent to the outside allowed slats of light to shoot in. Grateful for any light no matter how meager, Reilly stopped and bent as close as he could to the first access panel they came across, only to hear a muffled thump from below. Not a good sign. “Does my father have a daily maid service?”

Tessa came up behind him and put her hand low on his spine as she tried to see around him.

He felt his muscles leap at the touch and knew she’d felt it, too, when she skimmed her hand up and down his bare flesh as if soothing him.

He wondered what she’d do if she discovered that her touch was doing the opposite of soothing. “Does he?”

“I don’t know.” She set her chin on his shoulder as she whispered into his ear.

Her hair tickled his nose and smelled like a bunch of flowers. “Give me some room,” he muttered, and shrugged her off. Now he was distracted again, damn it, with thoughts of stupid flowers and all the bedrooms—empty—that his father had in this house and the things they could do in those empty bedrooms—

“Reilly.”

He sighed and glanced over his shoulder.

The lines of light slashed across her features. Her eyes were as big as saucers. “I hear voices,” she said a little shakily. “And they’re not maids. Not unless Eddie has hired big thugs who like to choke and throw women.”

Ah, hell. He squeezed her hand. “Tess…”

“Why would they still be there?” She sounded a little less thrilled about their great escape now. “They could have cleaned the place out and been far gone by now if they’d wanted.”

He’d been wondering the same thing. “Did you happen to mention to the guy who grabbed you that Eddie wouldn’t be back for a few days?”

“Of course n—” She bit her lip and looked stricken. “Oh.”

“Oh, what?”

“I guess I might have said something when I was arguing with him.”

Wasn’t that just perfect?

“I’m sorry.”

Another thump, a closer one now.

Turning to her, he slid his hand across her mouth and put his lips to her ear. “Shh.”

When she nodded, he removed his hand but stared at her for a long time. Her hair was wild, and so were her eyes. He couldn’t see the bruises one of the assholes below had left on her but knew they were still there. And though he couldn’t see her thoughts, she felt icy cold, and was trembling, her terror coming through loud and clear.

He squeezed her gently, trying to get some of his warmth into her. Ironic that he was sweating from being enclosed and she was a virtual Popsicle. “I want you to go back,” he said in her ear. “Go back to where we climbed up and wait there—”

She gripped him tight. “No—”

“I’m going to go alone. I can do it silently—”

“So can I—”

“No.” He didn’t want to bet on that, as he doubted she’d ever done anything silently in her entire life. “I’m going to drop down into the farthest room I can get to and then—”

“What if they find you?”

“They won’t.”

If he’d thought her eyes were big before, they were huge now, though he couldn’t see her exact expression. “You’re afraid of the dark, but you’ll take on four armed men?” she asked incredulously.

He felt the muscle in his jaw start jumping again. “I’ve had worse odds.”

“What did you say you did before you were an accountant?”

“Go back. Go back now.”

“You were on the right side of legal though, right? You
are
the good guy,
right?
”

“Go.” He nudged her to turn around.

“But—” She fought him and turned to face him again, all the while maintaining her balance on the beam.

He was beginning to see how she’d gotten herself so roughed up last night. But when he felt the fear coming off her in waves, he gave her one last squeeze. “Look, I’m coming right back for you,” he promised, although he never made promises. “Go, Tess.”

Then he physically turned her away from him once more, and gave her a little shove. This involved putting his hands on her and shockingly, he wanted to linger. Soothe. Calm.

Wasn’t that the damnedest thing.

But to do what he had to do, he put her firmly out of his mind with one deep breath. Despite being starving and half naked, he now concentrated on the task at hand.

That being not getting his ass kicked again.

W
HEN
T
ESSA KNEW A BETTER WAY
,
she wasn’t particularly good at following directions. She tried though, she really did. She understood Reilly wanted her out of the way so he wouldn’t have to worry about her as he dropped down into the house and tried to get them out safely.

She got that.

And she knew she’d never forget the sight of him forging ahead. Not afraid or uneasy—except for his aversion to the dark. Nope, no holding back for this man. And he hadn’t simply crawled along either.

He’d prowled. Like an animal on the hunt.

It occurred to her, and not for the first time, that under certain circumstances Reilly Ledger could be a dangerous man. Which, really, would only matter to her if she was attracted to him.

Damn it, she was attracted to him. That in turn was as unsettling as the sound of something scurrying off in the darkness.

Probably just a mouse, but she had a general thing against mice. Even so, she made it all the way back to the attic access above the room in which they’d spent
the night. Huddling at the opening, arms wrapped around her knees, she looked down at the cot where they’d slept together, and that’s where she went wrong.

She started thinking.

Too much.

She started obsessing over what could be happening to Reilly right at that very moment. Clearly the guy thought he was invincible. He thought he could handle anything.

But despite his tough attitude, he was just an accountant. What if he didn’t make it? What then? What if they caught him and killed him this time?

No, she told herself when she started to shake. Reilly could take care of himself. She’d never met anyone more capable of taking care of himself.

After all, he’d had a gun.
What kind of accountant carries a gun?

Don’t be the stupid chick, she reminded herself. Just climb back down into the room and huddle in a corner and be a good girl.

She had just hooked a leg over the opening when a sound from below stopped her cold. Her heart took off racing as she went as still as she could while shaking like a leaf, but it was no good. With her blood roaring through her ears she couldn’t hear.

What if someone was down there waiting for her?

Suddenly, the stupid chick idea of going back to Reilly seemed like the
smart
chick idea.

Once the decision was made, she carefully turned around, but still managed to move too quickly and lost a shoe. She watched it fall into the gray room and gave a sort of fatalistic shrug. In the scheme of things, if all she lost was a shoe, she’d feel pretty darn lucky.

Crawling back wasn’t as easy alone. She religiously followed the exact path they’d taken earlier, only this time without her six-foot human shield, removing the cobwebs that she felt certain held big, hairy spiders. She tried not to think about that, tried to think of other things…such as what could be happening to Reilly at this very moment.

She crawled faster. When she got halfway, she paused to listen for clues, but silence reigned. As quietly as she could and holding her breath, she continued past the point where she’d left Reilly. She could see another access panel up ahead, but still couldn’t hear a single sign of life. When she got to it, she could see this was where Reilly had dropped down. He’d muscled off the cover and left a gaping hole revealing what looked like a pristine tiled guest bathroom.

Speaking of which, after a long night, she needed one badly. Stomach growling as well, she carefully lowered her head into the opening. Yep, a bathroom. She reversed her position and stuck her feet through, thinking if she could just keep a good hold on the edge, she could lower herself down the entire length of her body, and hopefully reduce her fall by a full five feet, three inches.

Okay, five feet two.

She slid through, her dress snagging up around her hips as she hung there by her fingers, praying she really was the only one in the room, otherwise she was presenting quite the picture.

She took one last peek over her shoulder, and had just enough time to realize it was still a long fall when her fingers gave way.

She crumpled to the floor with a crash-landing that wasn’t the quiet one she’d hoped for. Quick as she could, she leaped to her feet and took a quick inventory.

No broken bones, just a sore butt. Good thing for her extra padding then. She was still missing a shoe, but she could live with that. Because she had to, she made use of the facilities, and then looked around her for something, anything, to use to protect herself. Silver tile, silver towels with gold bows, silver gilt around the mirrors and a bar of silver soap in the shape of a sea-shell. She needed…ah-ha. On the back of the toilet, she grabbed up one of two long silver candlestick holders, tossing aside the pretty ivory candle.

She hefted the thing in her hand like a weapon and was gratified by the weight.

What she wasn’t gratified by was the sick pit in her stomach. How many times had her big brother tried to teach her self-defense? How many times had she ended up on the mat laughing with Rafe shaking his head in
disgust. She wasn’t laughing now, and with all her might she wished he was here.

Tiptoeing to the door, she cracked it open and peeked out. Nothing. She stepped out of the bathroom, brandishing the candlestick out in front of her as if she knew what she was doing.

Up ahead, she could see the vast living room, and beyond that, the kitchen. Then she caught a flash of movement in there and plastered herself against the wall, nearly hyperventilating.

With her pulse at a full marathon rate, she scooted her way down the hallway to the opening of the living room. No one. She moved toward the sliding glass door.

On the other side, in the kitchen before the island, facing away from her, Reilly suddenly appeared. Then he bent down, momentarily disappearing from her view, and when he came up again, there was a gun in his hand.

An involuntary gasp escaped her, and gun out, he whirled. For one dizzy moment all she could see was the muzzle pointed right at her. Before she could blink, he’d uncocked it, or whatever one did when one didn’t intend to shoot after all, and was standing before her, jerking her out of the living room, into the kitchen and around the corner. His laser beam eyes demanded answers but when she opened her mouth he put a hand to it, just as her thug came around the corner, still wearing his jeans and dirty thermal shirt.

When he saw them he raised an arm with a knife.

Reilly shoved her down and kicked the knife out of the guy’s hands with chilling ease, adding another well-placed kick to his stomach.

The guy doubled over, then fell to his knees, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water before he flopped all the way to the floor.

Reilly stood over him. “What are you after?”

The guy offered a snide but interesting suggestion on what Reilly could do to himself. Reilly grabbed him by the hair and calmly lifted, then let his head hit the floor.

Given the squeal of pain this invoked, it was a hard hit.

“What are you after?”
Reilly asked again.

“We were just going to mess up the place, that’s all.”

“Why?”

The guy apparently hesitated too long for the impatient Reilly, and got another head bump on the floor.

“Ouch! Stop!”

“Then talk.”

“Okay, look, we were hired to steal his stuff and mess the place up,
that’s all.
”

Reilly looked unimpressed. “Keep talking.”

“But we just thought since he was going to be gone, we’d camp out and live here for a few days. You know, really trash it in style.”

“Who’s paying you?”

He closed his eyes. “I don’t know.”

Reilly stood up. The guy on the floor kicked out to trip him.

Tessa cried out a warning and huddled back against the wall, but Reilly didn’t need her help. He did some sort of karate chop to the guy’s throat and out he went like a light.

There was a coil of rope on the counter and a knife. “Where did those come from?” she whispered.

“From our captors.” Reilly efficiently and quickly tied him up, and when he was done, he nodded curtly to Tessa. “Nice to know you can follow directions.”

“I…” Stunned by what she’d just seen, she just stared at him.

He gave her that long-suffering sigh she seemed to cause. “Call it in.”

“What?”

“I got all four of them,” he said with that eerie calm knack for understating. “Call 9-1-1.”

She started to stand but her knees were knocking together. From her perch on the cold tile floor she could see the other side of the island now, where two men lay bound and gagged.

“The fourth is in the foyer, also prone.” He moved back into the kitchen and picked up the phone on the wall, then shook his head with disgust. “They cut the lines. Come on—”

He grabbed her hand and pulled her up. For a moment, one very weak moment, she let her hands come to rest on his bare pecs but she resisted the urge to put
her head down and beg for comfort because she’d just realized something more than a little unsettling.

Reilly Ledger was not hiding himself behind his tough, rough, dangerously edgy exterior. He
was
that tough, rough, dangerously edgy exterior.

Standing there, with the bad guys at his feet, he glanced around. Coolly. “Need my cell phone,” he said.
“Stay.”
He left for a moment, and came back with an armful of clothes that he dropped and started to pull on. A black T-shirt. Black jeans, from which he took out a cell phone and called 9-1-1 while he slid his feet into black athletic shoes.

As he talked to dispatch, he shoved his gun—the one he’d retrieved from one of the men on the floor—into his waistband. She tried not to think about that, that he carried a weapon on him, but she could do little else. She heard a half-hysterical giggle and was surprised to find it had come from her.

“Hey.” He clicked off the phone and looked at her, now fully dressed.

How was it he looked even more devastatingly dangerous fully dressed?

“You okay?”

A question from the man so miserly with words. She started to nod her head, then slowly shook it instead. Overwhelmed by the entire night’s events, by his utter calmness, by everything, she did as she’d wanted to moments ago. She set her head on his chest and hung on for all she was worth.

“Tess—”

She lifted her head. “I’m sorry. I just need…” Their mouths were a fraction of an inch apart. God, he was gorgeous. She was sure he’d hate that, but— “I really need a hug.”

His arms encircled her.

“Thank you,” she whispered, something warm and gushy happening to her insides at his touch. He did that for her, made her feel so secure that she could move on from the fright.

And move on she did. What was it that made her so suddenly, ridiculously turned-on? The danger? The shocking violence Reilly had just displayed? There had to be something sick in that, she decided, but it didn’t take away from the fact that her nipples had hardened and her thighs tightened.

Maybe it was the embrace itself. Or maybe it was simply Reilly’s presence, or the fact that she already knew how good he kissed, how delicious his touch was, but being with him made her feel…she glanced at the restrained bad guys…safe.

It was true. Reilly, for all his brooding intensity, made her feel safe, so she had no idea, no idea at all, why she shivered.

His arms tightened around her. Mouth still so close to hers she could feel his warm breath, he said, “Don’t go into shock now.”

“No.”

His eyes roamed her face, settling on her lips. His
arms were banded tightly around her. “You’re still shaking.”

“I think…I think the adrenaline is getting to me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think…I want you. I want you a lot.”

With a groan, his eyes became slumberous and…hot, definitely hot. “Tess—” One large hand palmed the back of her head and he slowly changed the angle of his head. Their noses brushed, but not their lips, not quite. Feeling a little desperate, a little like this was her last shot because the police were coming and then it’d be over, she closed the slight gap between them and laid one on him.

She expected to have to coax him out of his contained, tight control, as she had last time, but his mouth opened to hers immediately, and he fed her a hot kiss, holding her to him as if she was the very air he required. He was certainly hers. She lost herself in the sounds of their ravaging kiss, in the feel of his hands running up and down her back, squeezing her bottom, gliding her against the enticing bulge now firmly behind the buttons on his Levi’s.

Don’t stop,
was her only coherent thought, and as if he’d heard her, he turned, pressing her against the wall, protecting her from view of any of the men bound on the floor. He slid his hand over her breast. His fingers teased her nipple and the sensation dissolved her bones. But then he pulled his mouth back slightly, breathing harder than when he’d fought the bad guys.

She’d done that to him, and the power that knowledge infused her with was shocking. “That…that was some adrenaline rush.”

Another pass of his thumb over her nipple. “Yeah.”

She would have slid to the floor if he hadn’t been holding her up. She needed a bucket of ice water, something to bring back her temporarily vacationing sanity—

The sound of a siren coming closer did just the trick.

T
HE SUN FULLY ROSE
as they all stood on Eddie’s driveway. In the bright L.A. sunshine, surrounded by officers, Reilly answered all the questions he could. Yes, he was Eddie Ledger’s son. Yes, Eddie had known he’d be coming by, because he’d left Reilly a note—one of many in the past ten years since he’d decided he wanted back in his son’s life. No, the note hadn’t specifically said to come by last night, just that he’d wanted to talk.

Eddie always wanted to talk these days. The man had grown up, just ask him and he’d be happy to tell you. He’d also be happy to tell you that Reilly needed to accept that they were a family, father and son. To prove it, he was constantly barging into his son’s world with a wide smile and a full wallet, because he wasn’t picky—he’d buy his way into Reilly’s affections if he had to. He wanted Reilly to come to watch the Lakers with him, he wanted Reilly to hop on a plane to Barba
dos with him, he wanted…so much Reilly had no idea how to take it.