Her Galahad (23 page)

"Magic,"
she whispered, harsh and guttural with need. A need she hadn't known for six empty years.

"Yes," he whispered hoarsely. "We're magic, Tess. Yes, touch me there—aaahhh,
Tess…"
He picked up her teasing fingers and kissed the tips, one by one. Then he took them into his mouth, sucking—and she covered her mouth to stop the scream at the stunning sexuality of the simple act. He moved his mouth to the soft flesh of her arm and she writhed, giving high-pitched moans of pleasure. He nibbled the juncture of her shoulder, and dark liquid heat pooled low, deep in the heart of her: a throbbing, piercing ache of craving want that sent her mindless. "Oh, Jirrah, it's burning, it's aching … now. Please, Jirrah, now!" She took him in her hands, desperate to have him inside her.

"Shh, mulgu. I'll make the ache go away." His voice was ragged, his face stretched tight, but still he smiled. And he bent his head to her most intimate place, kissing the maelstrom of banked-up pain to a firestorm of white-hot release.

She pushed her knuckles in her mouth over the high-pitched cry as the rivulets of molten pleasure went on and on, her body jerking against him in massive pulsing aftershocks.

He held her close. "Ah, yes, that's it, my wild swan. Let go. Fly to the sky. Leave it all behind."

"I think—I'm in—the stratosphere," she gasped, weak, sated, shaking. "Hold me tight, Jirrah. I'm afraid I won't come back."

He laughed, a low, rippling sound of satisfaction. "I've got you, Tess. And you've got me. You hold tight to me, too, mulgu, 'cause we're both gonna fly this time."

"I feel selfish," she murmured huskily. "It's my turn to give now." Rousing herself from the laziness of satiation, she kissed him—fevered, dragging kisses that had him bucking and groaning. "Your body drives me crazy," she mumbled against the rippling muscle beneath the skin of his stomach. "I love it, I crave it like an addiction. If we're together and I can't touch you—"

"Ah, Tess, when you talk like that…" Covered in sweat, his face tight with agony, he lifted her above him. "I can't wait, mulgu. Take over here, 'cause I don't think I can last."

But, oh, he made it last. He thrust into her, and the eruption built again, slow, faster, up and up as she rocked above him, slick with pleasure and satisfaction, glowing with the building heat and intense, exquisite bliss, so piercing it was nearly pain. He rolled around to take over, the sheets tangling beneath and between them; then he rolled them back so he lay beneath her. "Your hair, Tess—ah, yes, like that," he groaned as she trailed it over his sweat-soaked chest and stomach. "Silk, hot black silk and witch's eyes. Tess—Tess—"

She rocked again and again, the white-hot pressure building up higher and hotter, curling fingers and toes. His hands held her hips, pushing her harder—and she let go, her spirit flew to the sky and beyond in a volcanic surge of power. "Jir-raaaaaaah," she cried out, a blazing keen of fulfillment. A shudder rocked her entire body; she collapsed on him, feeling the pulses of his orgasm fill her inside and out.

She couldn't move, couldn't think, could barely breathe. She lay on him, floating on a long-unknown cloud of bliss, tasting the salt on his skin with a lazy tongue.

Eventually, she felt the rumble of his low chuckle. "Stop it, woman, you're going to kill me."

She lifted her face to him, with a sleepy smile. "Be grateful I'm immobile, Galahad—when I can move again, you're in trouble."

A sleepy grin. "I'm here to serve."

She sighed, pressed her lips to his throat, and slept.

* * *

The muted trill of the phone started them both awake. Tessa blinked as the morning light dazzled her sleep-encrusted eyes. She moved out from beneath the heavy warmth of his arm beneath her breasts, while Jirrah groped to answer the phone.

"Yeah, Rod … no problem. We'll be there in half an hour." He rolled out of bed, hanging up the line. "What time is it?"

She checked her watch. "Half-past nine!" she gasped.

He grinned. "Well, we didn't get much sleep last night. The people in the next room must hate us."

"I need a shower," she groaned.

"Again?" he queried wickedly, his eyes glinting.

She threw a pillow at him. "Alone, this time," she informed him in mock dignity. "You make the coffee."

He looked at her for a moment, his gaze penetrating—seeing more than she wanted him to. After a moment, the smile twisted. "Sure. Why not? I said I was here to serve. Might as well be the coffee." He turned to the kitchenette to fill the kettle.

With a twinge of conscience, she turned hack for a second, looking over her shoulder. He made the coffee, naked, beautiful and all unashamed male—and her rebellions body began the slow, delicious throb once more. "Well, if you really need a shower…"

"I'll be all right." He sounded curt.

"Sure?" she asked huskily, wanting him so much she ached with it … hating that she'd hurt him with her withdrawal.

It's time, Tessa. You have to tell him why.

Soon. Not yet. Not yet. Just one more time…

He flicked a glance at her, her naked curves soft and shadowy in the muted light filtering through the curtains, her hair falling down her back, eyes full of invitation and hidden pain. "Damn you, Tessa," he rasped, and she knew he was gone, he'd lost his inner battle to keep his distance. He crossed the room to her. She took his hand, and led him into the shower.

They didn't have coffee until they sat in Rod's office.

"I found the JP who married you two." Rod pushed over a piece of paper toward them. "Here's his affidavit that he married you guys five weeks and three days before Tessa's marriage to Beller. Here's his copy of the marriage certificate, too, and a signed confirmation of receipt from Births, Deaths and Marriages." He grinned. "Congratulations, guys. You're still legally married."

Neither of them looked at each other. "That's great," Tessa managed to croak, when Rod's brows lifted in silent question "Um—I mean—it's enough to give to the police, isn't it?"

Rod nodded. "It'll be enough for an investigation. It's absolute conflict of interest. It shows Earldon and Beller had more than a passing motive to have you locked up, Jirrah—and proof of their prior knowledge in your committing bigamy."

"Could I be arrested on any charge?" she asked, low.

"With the amount of evidence we've got on Earldon and Beller, no one will believe you were in on it. Besides, there are too many independent witnesses who state you weren't exactly a radiant bride when you married Beller." He smiled quizzically. "Did you really cry
all
the way through the ceremony?"

Her mouth twitched, feeling Jirrah's assessing gaze on her "I was pregnant with Emily. It was an emotional time, being only five weeks after…" She gulped, fighting to keep control. "How did they get the marriage certificate wiped from the records?"

"The police will look into it, but we might never know."

Jirrah spoke for the first time. "I want to take this stuff in now, before Earldon and Beller get the cops on to us."

She flinched. He'd aimed that at her. Yes, he'd made fantastic love to her in the shower—but he'd barely spoken to her since, and she knew she'd hurt him. Torn between her fear of hurting him and her terror of getting in too deep, she maintained the silence. She had to tell him the truth behind her withdrawal—not physical, but the emotional wall she kept between them. Just a few simple words she couldn't bring herself to say, that would explain everything.

"I—can't—"

"…if you just hang on for a day," Rod was saying. "I'm waiting for some evidence to come in about Emily."

"If you need help, call in an investigator."

"Jirrah, you know from last time our resources are limited."

He handed Rod a blank cheque. "The resources in that come to half a million dollars. Spend what you need to find my daughter."

Rod gaped. "What's the deal?"

"I'm Dolphin Art," Jirrah replied tersely. "Take whatever you need to find her, Rod. Don't ask. Just do it."

"You're
Dolphin Art?"
Rod gaped still. "But—but Jirrah—Dolphin Art's famous internationally! Investors and collectors commission his carvings and paintings from all over the world!"

Jirrah grinned then. "Not bad for a guy who learned the craft in lockup, is it?"

"Crikey. Whoever invented the term 'life's a roller coaster' must've known you, mate." Rod shook his head. "I think I can get a handle on who adopted her without the money." He shuffled more papers. "Let's get a warrant on Beller and Earldon's offices. We need to get on to this ASAP, before they can hide evidence."

"Any evidence they have won't he there, if I know them."

Rod looked at Tessa with intelligence and respect. "Yes? Any ideas on where they'd put the stuff?"

"I think everything will be either at Duncan's Kirribilli apartment, or our safe-deposit box at the Sydney bank." Her mouth twisted. "They feel powerful, keeping evidence that can destroy their careers and put them in prison, and no one can touch them."

Rod nodded. "Okay. We'll go for the warrant tomorrow—"

"If I'm right, we won't need to bother."

Jirrah's mouth twisted. "What is it you're not saying?"

"Give me a minute—please." She closed her eyes, hating the lingering guilt inside her.
Now or never, Tessa.
"Duncan lives at the Kirribilli apartment, but it's mine. Dad bought it as an investment for me when I was little. I'm also part owner of the safe-deposit box. So we can go in, unless they changed the locks—and I don't think they'd have bothered, since they wouldn't remember I have these." She pulled a set of keys from her bag.

Rod and Jirrah both stared at her in amazement.

"It's legal for me to enter my apartment—to bring friends—isn't it? I never sublet it to Duncan—he pays no rent. There's nothing in writing. It's a private family arrangement. And no one can stop me looking in the safe-deposit box, can they?"

"No," Rod answered, looking dazed. "If you own the apartment and he never signed a contract, you're entitled to enter as the owner. And the box is in your name. You can open it whenever you want." Then he whooped. "Let's go now, while Earldon's at work."

Jirrah said, "Don't go, Rod. Earldon will cause trouble for you. There's nothing he can do to me he hasn't already done."

Another challenge he'd thrown at her. Tessa lifted her chin "He's right. If you came with us, he'd take the case to the media. A member of the Aboriginal Legal Service committing felonious acts on innocent barristers, etc. They'd lap it up."

"Fair enough," Rod murmured, sounding wistful. "By the way, did you know Beller's gone for Parliament preselection at a national level? I found out yesterday."

She shrugged. "It's no surprise. It's one of the reasons why he wanted to many me in the first place. He has the money, but it's middle-class money. His father was self-made, obsessed with getting his son into high society. That's why he got into plastic surgery. But Cameron needed the Earldon name to pave the way. He was always manic about getting in with the right people."

"So that's why Beller's so keen to shut you both up," Rod replied. "It still surprises me that he's acting on this himself. Why not send hired guns on this?"

"Hate," Jirrah said quietly. "When he found out I was near Tess he went berserk. He's been obsessed with her since she was a kid, and not just for her name. He can't stand losing her."

"He wouldn't want me to know Emily's alive. She's something of me he can't own or control, and it drives him crazy. He's always had to have complete possession of me." She rose to go. "We'd better make a start on the searches."