Dead by Morning (20 page)
Maleah looked at Derek Lawrence with a greater insight into the person he really was, not the man she thought he was. Why he had chosen to share with her what was obviously painful memories about his youthful walk on the wild side, she didn’t know. But she was glad he had. Seeing him now, all sleek and sophisticated with his expensive haircuts, his designer clothes, his air of casual elegance, she never would have thought—not in a million years—that he had ever been a soldier of fortune when he was very young and apparently very stupid.
She would never again be able to look at him and see only an arrogant playboy.
“I really don’t know you at all, do I?” She couldn’t take her eyes off him because she felt that she was seeing him for the first time.
“Sure you do, hon—” He broke off mid-word. “You know me. Sometimes I feel as if you can see straight through me.” He grinned, the motion forced and self-mocking. “Now, you know me a little better. I’ve given you more weapons in your arsenal of reasons to dislike me.”
“Is that what you think, that I look for reasons to dislike you?”
“Don’t you?”
“No, of course not.”
“Tell me one thing you like about me,” he challenged.
“I’m not playing this game with you.” She sat up straight and halfway rose to her feet.
He grabbed her upper arms and forced her back down on the sofa. “Just tell me one thing you like about me and I’ll let you go.” He kept a tight hold on her.
She didn’t fight him, didn’t even squirm. “I like your silver Corvette.”
His lips twitched. “That’s something I own. Try again.”
His tenacious hold loosened ever so slightly.
“I like . . .” Her mind went blank. He was staring at her with such intensity, as if her answer meant a great deal to him. But that wasn’t possible, was it? Derek didn’t really give a damn what she or anyone else thought of him.
“You like what?” he asked. “My good looks? My winning personality? My magnificent body? My keen intellect?”
“Yes.” She swallowed hard.
“Yes, what? Be specific.”
“Yes, I like your looks, your body, your intellect and your personality, too, except for the macho he-man part that fights me for control and tries to put me in my place.”
What is the point of lying? He already knows how I feel about him.
“And what do you believe I think your place is?” He slid his left hand down her arm and slipped it around her waist, then moved his right hand up to circle the back of her neck.
Keeping her eyes focused on him to show him that he didn’t intimidate her, she replied, “You think I should be a helpless, needy female who can’t survive without a big strong man like you to lean on, to support me, and to make my decisions for me.”
When Derek laughed, she felt as if he had thrown ice water over her head.
“What’s so damn funny?”
“You are, Blondie. You have no idea how wrong you are. Would I like to see you all soft and feminine, yeah, sure I would. But you could never be helpless and needy. That’s not who you are, thank goodness. You’re tough, outspoken, and independent. And those are things I like about you.”
She stared at him with wide-eyed disbelief.
“And FYI—I like your pretty face, your gorgeous body, and your sharp mind.” With his hand at the back of her neck, he drew her closer and closer.
He’s going to kiss me. God help us both! What do I do?
You resist, you idiot, that’s what you do.
But she didn’t resist. “What about my personality?” she asked, her voice husky with emotion.
“I like your personality, except . . .” He brought his mouth close to hers.
“Except?” she asked, her lips parting in anticipation.
“I forget,” he told her.
And then he kissed her. A tender marauding that claimed her mouth.
Mercy Lord.
She kissed him back. Kissed him with equal hunger and need and passion. Not until that very moment did she realize exactly how much she had wanted Derek to kiss her.
Chapter 20
Had he lost his mind? Kissing Maleah Perdue was insanity. A huge mistake. But damn it all, he couldn’t remember the last time he had wanted anything half as much. While his thoughts went wild with warnings, he deepened the kiss. As if she were a drug he had become instantly addicted to, he wanted more. But the moment his tongue touched hers, Maleah shoved against his chest, trying to push him away from her. When she managed to free her mouth from his, she gasped for air.
“We can’t do this,” she said breathlessly. “It’s crazy. We’re crazy!”
He released his hold on the back of her neck and eased his arm from around her waist. Breathing hard, he stared at her flushed cheeks, her swollen lips, and disheveled hair. Apparently, without realizing what he was doing, he had threaded his fingers through her hair.
“Do I need to apologize?” he asked, knowing full well that she was going to lay all the blame on him. And maybe she should. After all, he had started the whole thing by kissing her, hadn’t he?
Maleah shook her head. “I don’t know what happened.” She jumped up. “But it was as much my fault as yours.” She refused to look directly at him. “I should go back to my room.”
When she turned and headed for the door, Derek got up and followed her, catching up with her just as she reached for the door handle.
He laid his hand on her shoulder. She tensed.
“It was bound to happen sooner or later,” he said. “There’s been some sort of sexual tension between us since the day we met. That kiss was a good thing. It defused the tension, so we don’t have to deal with it anymore.”
She glanced over her shoulder, right into his eyes, and saw the truth. Who was he trying to kid? He was lying. They both knew it. That kiss hadn’t defused a damn thing. The exact opposite was true.
“Right,” she said, agreeing with his lie.
He reached around her, his arm brushing her side as he opened the door. She offered him a weak, we’re-fine smile and walked out into the hall.
“See you in the morning,” he said.
“Yeah, see you in the morning.”
He stepped out into the hall and watched her until she disappeared into her room. Then he went back into his room and closed and double locked the door.
Cursing under his breath, calling himself every kind of fool, he stomped across the carpeted floor and went outside on the patio. After taking several deep gulps of fresh nighttime sea air, he sat down in one of the lounge chairs and looked out over the ocean.
Time for some hard truths, buddy boy.
He was attracted to Maleah. Not just her pretty blond looks or her hourglass-shaped body. He liked that she was smart and independent and aggressive. Hell, he even liked the way she stood up to him, challenged him, and wouldn’t let him get away with anything.
Maleah was her own woman. She wasn’t waiting for some man to come along and make all her dreams come true. She didn’t expect a future husband to provide her with everything his money could buy. Not like Happy, who had married his father for his family’s vast wealth and proceeded to make the man’s life a living hell. At least that’s the way he remembered his parents’ marriage. And not like his sister Diana, who had jilted the guy she had really loved in order to marry the man Happy had chosen for her. A man with the right pedigree, social standing, and bank account.
Maleah was nothing like his mother or his sister. And maybe that was the reason he liked her so much. Too damn much.
You’ve got to let this thing go. You may want her . . . hell, she may even want you . . . but it just won’t work. Not for either of you.
Okay, so things would be a bit awkward in the morning, but if they both just pretended it had never happened . . . But could they? Could he forget what it felt like to have her in his arms, how much he wanted far more than just a heated kiss? Even now, his body still wanted her.
How would Maleah feel about having sex? No strings attached. No deep, long-lasting emotions involved. Just screwing until they worked “it” out of their systems.
It? Primitive desire. Animal hunger. Lust. Call “it” whatever you want.
Maleah sure as hell wasn’t the first woman he’d ever wanted that way and she certainly wouldn’t be the last. But . . .
But Maleah wasn’t just any woman and that was the problem.
Derek mumbled a few self-loathing obscenities as he got up, went inside and undressed for bed.
The Inn Steinhof, located in downtown St. Jakob, possessed the old world charm one associated with rural Austria. The three-story white building provided spacious, comfortable en suite rooms. Breakfast was provided and dinner was available for an additional charge. There were tables outside for shaded summer seating and a small bar and grill was located on the main floor, just off the lobby area. Upon arrival, Luke had done as Henri Fortier had instructed and left a message for Aldo Finster, whom Luke had been told was away hiking and would return the following day.
Long ago, Luke had learned the value of patience.
And so he had waited for Finster to return to the hotel. Half an hour ago, one of the maids had delivered a note from Finster, inviting Luke to meet him in the lobby in an hour.
When Luke arrived in the lobby, he casually scanned the area, and in less than a minute, spotted the person he assumed was Finster. He was a small, plump, balding gentleman in his late forties, his blue eyes appearing quite large behind a pair of thick bifocals.
Luke approached the man. “Herr Finster?”
“Yes, I am Aldo Finster.” He smiled. “And you are Mr. Sentell.” He held out his hand.
Luke shook hands with Finster.
“You are enjoying your stay in St. Jakob?” Finster asked.
Luke nodded.
“Will you be here long?” he asked.
Finster’s command of the English language was excellent, although his accent was quite pronounced.
“Long enough,” Luke replied.
Finster nodded. “I know an excellent restaurant just down the street. A short walk. Shall we go now?”
Luke nodded again.
Once they exited the hotel, Finster said, “You know Henri Fortier, I believe.”
“Yes, I know Henri.”
“He suggested you ask me to put you in contact with a tour guide, yes?”
“Yes.”
“I know someone who would be perfect for you, Mr. Sentell. He has an excellent reputation for providing tourists with whatever they want.”
“Then you can arrange for me to meet this tour guide.”
“Most certainly. There will be a small fee, of course.”
“Name your price.”
“Sixty-two thousand euro.” Finster continued walking, his smile widening as he glanced at Luke.
“This guide must be exceptional.” Luke paused.
Finster stopped and looked squarely at Luke. “I can assure you that his knowledge of Austria is priceless.”
“Then by all means, make the arrangements as soon as possible.”
“You understand that this will be a cash transaction,” Finster said.
“I’ll have your money for you in a couple of hours.”
“Excellent, excellent.” Finster began walking again. “Perhaps we should forgo lunch today while we each attend to business.”
Maleah had ordered coffee, cold cereal, and fresh fruit for breakfast and her meal was served promptly at eight. She was already dressed and ready when the waiter delivered her food. So far that morning, Derek hadn’t gotten in touch with her. She suspected he was putting off the inevitable, just as she was.
Grow up, will you. It was just a kiss.
Yeah, but what a kiss.
As she sipped on her second cup of coffee—she had practically inhaled the first cup—she eyed her phone lying on top of her packed suitcase alongside her shoulder holster.
Go ahead and call him.
And say what?
Say good morning. Ask what time he wants to leave the hotel. Suggest that we should drive straight back to Vidalia, Georgia, to prepare for my next interview with Jerome Browning.
There was no reason to mention the kiss. Derek probably wouldn’t say anything about it. No doubt he wanted to forget that it had happened just as much as she did. But the problem was could either of them ever forget?
You overreacted. That kiss wasn’t as incredible as you thought it was.
She marched over to the bed where she had placed her suitcase.
Just pick up the phone and call him.
She reached down, grasped the phone and held it in her hand.
Aggravated with herself for hesitating, she said aloud, “Put on your big girl panties and do it.”
She hit the preprogrammed number and held her breath as she waited for him to answer.
“Good morning, Blondie,” Derek said.
“Good morning. I . . . uh . . . was wondering—”
“I’m ready to hit the road whenever you are,” he told her. “I had my breakfast delivered half an hour ago. Have you eaten?”
She glanced at the untouched cereal and fruit on her breakfast tray. “I just now finished. I can be ready to leave in about ten minutes.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll knock on your door when I’m ready to go.”
“Sounds fine. That will give me time to check in with headquarters.”
Everything was going to be all right. Derek sounded like his usual self. Apparently, she was the only one with a problem, the one who had stammered and acted all morning-after stupid.
“Derek?”
“Huh?”
“I think we should head straight back to Vidalia. I really want some prep time before I go back to the penitentiary for another interview with Browning. I’m going to need your help.”
“We’re thinking alike,” he said. “I’ve already called the Hampton Inn where we stayed and reserved rooms for the next three nights. And while you’re driving today, I’ll start putting my thoughts down on paper and we can discuss strategy.”
“Thanks, Derek.”
“You’re welcome, Blondie.”
Poppy didn’t go to church except when she stayed with Grandmother in Savannah. Her mother wasn’t a religious person. Actually Vickie didn’t believe in God. She said religion was for idiots and senile old fools like her grandmother. But Grandmother wasn’t an idiot nor was she senile. And Poppy actually enjoyed Sunday morning services at the First Presbyterian Church. Aunt Mary Lee was Episcopal now, having converted when she married Uncle Lowell. The Dandridges had been Episcopalian for generations, just as the Chappelles had been Presbyterian.
“I thought we’d have lunch out here,” Grandmother called to Poppy from the sunroom. “It’s just the three of us today. I told Heloise not to worry with anything much. No sense heating up the house on such a warm day when we aren’t expecting company.”
“I made chicken salad before we left for services this morning.” Heloise came out of the kitchen carrying a tray that held a pitcher of iced tea and three glasses. “And there are teacakes left over from yesterday. I thought they’d be good with ice cream and some fresh sliced peaches.”
“What can I do to help?” Poppy asked.
“Why don’t you set the table,” Heloise said. “The everyday dinnerware will be fine, won’t it, Miss Carolyn?”
“Certainly, certainly.” Grandmother waved her hand in dismissal as she sat down in one of the big wicker chairs.
Although the Chappelles were no longer wealthy, Grandmother continued to live a comfortable lifestyle. She still played bridge with her snooty friends, still maintained a membership at the country club, still resided in the home where she had raised her family, and still kept a housekeeper, although after all these years, Heloise was as much friend as servant.
“The old bat has no idea that if it wasn’t for Saxon putting money in her bank account on a regular basis, she’d be living from hand to mouth,” Poppy’s mother had told her. “The crazy fool thinks she’s still rich.”
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