Bringing Benjy Home (Security Ops) (28 page)

“You’re missing the point, here, Tony,” Trey said reprovingly. “It doesn’t matter whether you told anyone. All that matters is that Penning will believe that you did. ‘

“My life won’t be worth a plugged nickel if Penning gets told that,” the man whimpered.

“I wonder what would happen if Penning found out you were all set to deliver a son, one he never wanted and didn’t know about, to his parents, hoping for a huge payoff,” mused Jaida.

Franken was sweating copiously now.

“And then there’s always the information we could give him about how you stole from him, Tony,” she went on.

Her words garnered Trey’s avid attention, as well. For the first time he noticed the fine tremors that still shook her, the precise enunciation she was using. His gaze dropped to the hand she held in her lap, the one encased in a black leather glove.

“Do you think he’ll believe that you helped yourself to things around the house, things you could pawn later? I’ll bet he’s always thought that Lauren took her jewelry with her. He’ll be interested to know that you gathered it up yourself after she escaped. It was your . . . severance pay, isn’t that what you thought?”

“You can’t tell him any of that,” Franken pleaded. “He’ll kill me for sure. You’d be signing my death warrant as soon as you made the call.”

“It’s up to you, Tony,” Trey said almost gently. “It’s your decision. Which way will you feel safer? With Penning free . . . or with him in prison?”

“You still look pale,” Trey said critically. “Are you sure you got enough to eat?”

Jaida wrinkled her nose at him. She was lounging comfortably on the couch in his apartment, the picture of contentment. “My appetite hasn’t recovered from the plane ride. After that landing at LAX, I may never eat again.”

His teeth shone. “Now, that I’d have to see to believe.” He surveyed her, looking for signs of stress, but other than her lack of color she seemed to be all right. The past week had been grueling for her. Once Franken had been convinced that his best hope of staying alive was to tell what he knew about his former boss, events had progressed quickly. Granted immunity from prosecution for his own involvement in the crimes in which he implicated his former boss, Franken had become a fountain of information. The FBI agents had been almost gleeful at the opportunity to arrest Penning, on charges ranging from racketeering to murder. And given the physical evidence Lauren was able to supply that linked him to Weber’s death, one charge, at least, seemed certain to stick.

“Will Lauren have to testify?” she asked quietly.

“I hope not. Franken’s testimony and the bloodstained clothing may be enough to tie Penning to Weber’s murder. The prosecutors are going to do their best to keep her out of it.”

“Thank God Penning didn’t make bail,” she said soberly. “Lauren won’t have to worry about him finding her any longer.”

“As soon as he’s in prison for good she can start the divorce proceedings,” Trey said, satisfaction filling his voice. That would mark the beginning of his sister’s new life. She would finally be rid of the constant fear that had haunted her. She and Benjy would be free to live in peace.

“What will happen to Kasem and Franken?” she asked.

“Franken still faces charges for kidnapping, and with Kasem’s testimony he doesn’t stand a chance of getting off. I understand she’s going for a reduced charge. She’s hoping to convince the jury that her involvement was under duress. All in all, the three of them aren’t going to be causing any trouble for quite some time.”

He fell silent then, enjoying the sight of her on his furniture, in his home. She looked right here, as if the dark cloth covering of the couch was made to showcase that light hair. Primitive possessiveness flared, swift and intense. He hadn’t questioned his instinct to bring her with him, or the one urging him to keep her here. He’d lived his life by following that instinct. It had never failed him yet.

Jaida gazed about his apartment. The space was huge and perfectly decorated in navy, burgundy and gray. It had been designed with chic comfort in mind, and the effect was restrained elegance. It was such a perfect foil for Trey that Jaida was certain he had designed it himself.

Just as he’d designed a reason for her to travel back to L.A. with him. There had been no real need for her to accompany him to L.A. once the loose ends had been taken care of in Boston, and his excuse that Detective Reynolds might need to talk to her had been blatantly transparent. It had suited her own purposes to accept his explanation at face value, especially since remaining with him was what she wanted most in the world. But the question that had been hovering on her tongue for hours finally slipped out. “Why am I here, Trey?”

It was amazing how well she was beginning to read him. Not that he let even the merest flicker of an eyelash show that she’d disconcerted him. But his face lost that half-indulgent look it had been wearing and became the expressionless mask she’d first become accustomed to.

“You needed to give your body time to recuperate,” he said evenly. “You can’t be trusted to take care of yourself, Jaida. Don’t argue,” he admonished, when she opened her mouth to reply. “I’ve watched what the visions do to you physically, and in the past few weeks you’ve undergone them over and over. You’ve never been under this kind of stress before, so you have no idea the toll this whole experience has taken on you. I’m going to make sure you allow yourself time to fully recover.”

“So once I’ve recovered I can go back home?”

That question sparked a hint of temper. She was doing it again, making plans to leave him, even while lying in languorous comfort on his couch. It was just like the time he’d had to fly back to Colorado and she hadn’t given him a chance to talk her into coming with him. No, then, too, she’d announced her own plans, and just as cool as you please had walked away, leaving him with his guts in knots. But not this time.

He rose from his chair and stalked toward her. He sat down very near her, so close she was pressed between the pillowy arm of the couch and his warm, hard body. He slid one hand to the satiny skin beneath her jaw, and when he felt the pulse hammering there, he allowed himself a tiny smile.

“You can try to pretend, but you can never hide this, Jaida.” The prickles of electricity beneath his fingers warmed him. “You can never hide your reaction to me.” He covered her lips with his, forcing an even deeper reaction from her, from both of them. Her response was immediate and helplessly complete. He pushed up her top and filled his palms with her lace- covered breasts. Their mouths twisted together, their breathing growing ragged. Long minutes later he raised his head a fraction, savoring the sight of her sprawled half beneath him, her lips swollen, nipples straining against their confines.

“You don’t want to go back to the cabin,” he muttered, dropping a kiss on the top of one flushed breast. “You don’t want to leave me, any more than I want you to go. You love me, Jaida. A woman like you doesn’t make love to a man otherwise. You couldn’t.” His mouth was at her neck now, drawing her pulse into a more fevered beat. “Tell me,” he demanded gutturally. “Tell me you love me,”

She offered the words freely, relishing the chance to say them out loud. “I do,” she whispered. “I love you, Trey.”

The words had barely escaped her before his mouth covered hers again, thirstily drinking the words from her lips.

“Then stay. Marry me, Jaida.”

Her eyelids flickered dazedly. “Marriage? Trey, you don’t want to marry me.”

His face was only a fraction from hers, so close she could see the intent in his eyes. “Honey, you’re supposed to be psychic. You, better than anyone, should know how I feel.”

“I do.” The ache was in her voice, tearing at her throat. His brows came down at the raw emotion. “I knew how you felt the moment you took me in your arms when you raced back to the cabin the night Franken broke in. And I also know how you feel about my . . . gift.” She saw the agreement on his face and could have wept. “You’ve spent your life shielding your thoughts and feelings from the world. You hate it when I touch you and read something.”

“No,” he said bluntly, “I don’t like it. I can’t deny that it’s going to take some getting used to. But I do know your ability works different with me than it does with anyone else. You respond every time I touch you, and your own emotions get in the way, don’t they? The closer we get, the more difficult it becomes for you to concentrate on anything except what I make you feel.”

His hand was caressing her nape now, and the shivers racing down her spine were proof of his words. “There’s the tradeoff,” he whispered. “I may not always like the power of your gift, but I damn sure like the effect my touch has on you, the effect it has on both of us.”

She evaded his lips when they would have sealed hers. “I’m not normal, Trey. I made my peace with that a long time ago. I can’t live in a city, constantly raising my defenses so I can walk down a crowded street. I can’t sustain the kind of shield it would take.”

He listened to her, more to the wistfulness in her tone than to her words, and something inside him softened. “We can live anywhere you’ll be comfortable,” he promised. “The Arkansas Valley isn’t the only remote spot on the map. If you want the mountains, I can live with that. Beachfront?”

She flinched slightly at the stinging kiss he pressed against the spot beneath her earlobe, before he soothed it with the tip of his tongue.

“We can do that, too. Just say that you want to stay. Say you’ll marry me.”

She cupped his hard jaw wonderingly. She’d spent long years coming to terms with what her ability meant—a lack of love, of intimacy, in her life. To be offered it now, from this man, was a rare gift indeed.

“Yes,” she said simply. She couldn’t say more—her throat was too full. But the one word was enough to make his green eyes glitter with suppressed emotion. He sat up, scooped her into his arms and walked swiftly from the room.

Once there, he let her slide slowly, intimately, down his body. That sense of familiarity was back; the overriding sensuality of finally having her here, in his bedroom, was threatening to engulf him. He rapidly divested her of the rest of her clothes, his progress hampered by her hands dispensing with his. He backed her up to the bed, reached beyond her and yanked off the comforter. Then almost gently, he laid her down, his jaw tightening as he took in the picture she made.

He followed her down, raising himself on one elbow above her. With one forefinger he traced her lips, her delicate jaw. “I love you, Jaida,” he said hoarsely.

She smiled, a slow, secret smile, against his fingertip. “I know,” she whispered.

Her reply surprised a gust of laughter from him, “Think you know everything, don’t you? But you don’t. You’re not the only who can have visions. I’ve had one myself. Over and over, of you, me, on this bed. Like this. Just like this.” Her eyes widened in surprise at his words, and then that Mona Lisa smile crossed her lips again.

He watched her through slitted eyes. She was as exquisite as any work of art. Her hair spilled across the sheets, the pale color shining like diamonds on a bed of velvet. The black sheets were a perfect foil for her silky body.

He lowered his head to kiss her. This was one vision that was going to last forever.