Her Only Desire (22 page)

On the edge of the road she stood listening. The sound of footsteps tromping on pine needles drew her to the riverbank. In the daylight, she wasn’t nearly as nervous as she’d been last night when she’d led Boone and his men through the brush. She followed the side of the bank to her and Denny’s tree, then glanced around the small clearing. “Denny?” she called out softly, not wanting to alert anyone living in the houses near the edge of the woods. “Denny?”

“Tilly!” Denny came crashing through the underbrush, a large grin splitting his face. “I couldn’t get into the house, so I came to see our tree.”

“It’s our spot. Nothing will ever change that.” Tilly opened her arms, relief making her weak. His hug was hard and familiar.

“Make her go away,” Denny whispered in her ear.

Tilly jerked back, about to ask him what he meant, when she spotted Mae standing beside the large oak. “Mae, thank you for finding him,” she said, although something about the older woman’s expression rang alarm bells.

Mae’s tall frame seemed larger, more ominous. Maybe because she wore dark trousers and a loose dark blouse rather than her usual server’s dress.

“Denny said you had his treasure.”

Her eyes widened before she could caution herself to pretend she didn’t know what the woman was talking about. “His treasure?” she asked, suddenly breathless.

Mae’s expression remained eerily blank. “His pirate’s hoard.”

“I have it,” Tilly said, giving her a stiff smile. “I’ve kept it safe for you, Denny,” she said, pushing at his chest and moving to his side. “Don’t you worry.”

Denny gripped her arm with his large hand, his forehead wrinkled in a frown. “Gotta have it, Tilly. Need my treasure. A pirate ain’t a pirate ’thout treasure.”

“You’re exactly right,” she said, unable to look away from Mae, who slowly moved closer.

“Told Mae sometimes we bury treasure here.” He shook his head. “But someone done dug it up. Found the hole.”

Mae’s dark eyes narrowed. “Where’s Denny’s treasure, Tilly?”

Tilly shook her head. Mae’s strange insistence caused a slow shiver of apprehension to snake down her spine. “I gave it to Boone,” she whispered, dread stealing her voice. “For his safekeeping.”

Mae shook her head. “Shouldn’t o’ done that.”

Suddenly, Tilly wished she hadn’t been so keen to lose the dark sedan. She knew only moments would pass before he found her vehicle, but she had the sinking feeling he might not radio for backup soon enough to make a difference. “Why shouldn’t I have done that, Mae?”

But she thought she knew. Everything clicked into place.

Mae had been Celie’s nanny. Boone and Leon weren’t the only ones who’d loved her cousin. And since Tilly knew Boone wasn’t crazy, she knew he hadn’t been crazy jealous enough to kill Celie because she’d been stepping out on him.

Leon had been a fleeting possibility, but even though Tilly had acknowledged him as a suspect, he just didn’t seem the type. Leon was a flirt, but not possessive. Although she really didn’t know what type it took to slash a young girl to death.

Except the unholy light gleaming in Mae’s eyes made the hairs on the back of her neck and her arms rise. “What do you want with Denny’s treasure, Mae?” she asked, keeping her voice even.

The woman’s mouth tightened. “Denny’s a dirty little thief. Always findin’ buttons and change on the floor. Didn’t realize he searched drawers too. He’s got somethin’ o’ mine.”

“Don’t mean to steal, Tilly,” Denny said, whining a bit because even he understood something was terribly wrong.

“Why don’t you go up to the road, Denny?” She wrapped an arm around his waist. “My car’s there. You can sit in the back while I talk to Mae.”

Mae shook her head. “We’ll go together.” She pulled a small handgun from her trouser pocket that looked like a toy and pointed it straight at Tilly.

Denny dragged on her arm. “Tilly? I wanna go home.”

“So do I, Denny,” she whispered, and patted his arm. “Mae. It’s already too late. Boone has it. If there’s anything, any blood, that might point to…the killer…he’s gonna know.”

Mae’s upper lip curled. “Maybe so, but I can make him sorry. Just like I did all those years ago.”

Tilly’s body froze. “Why would you want him sorry, Mae? What did Boone ever do to you?”

“He got my girl pregnant. She didn’t think I knew. But I took care o’ her so long, I knew her cycles. She didn’t know it, but I sure did!” Her chin jutted out. “Damn slut was havin’ his baby, and her daddy would o’ fired me.”

“But you killed her,” she said softly over the lump in her throat. “You lost your job anyway.”

Mae waved her free hand. “That was an accident. I followed her. She went back to that cabin, waited for Leon.”

Stalling for time, Tilly lifted a hand to interrupt. “If you knew about Leon, why did you assume the baby was Boone’s?”

Mae’s expression screwed up. Hatred blazed from her eyes. “Baby was his. I watched her with Leon. She insisted he wear a condom. They did it on the same dirty mattress as her and Boone. All tied up like a Christmas present. When Leon left, I called her back. She pleaded with me not to tell. Said she loved Boone, but couldn’t help herself. Said she’d been careful.”

Mae shook her head. “Girl was spoiled. Wanted the rich boy. But she wanted to flirt with trouble too. I lost my head.” Her lips pressed together and she sniffed. “Didn’t mean to kill my baby.”

Denny muttered under his breath, “Pretty bells. Pretty bells.”

Tilly’s stomach roiled. Fear made her start to sweat. “You took the bracelet.”

“Don’t know why I did. It was so pretty, so delicate. She was my baby. Why shouldn’t I have something from her ’sides all that worry? But your brother found it in my desk at the restaurant. I thought I’d lost it ’til that Mrs. Nolan said they’d been lookin’ for a bracelet. That they tore apart that cabin ’fore they burned it.” Her eyes glittered with hatred. “I knew why he wanted it. Couldn’t let that happen.”

Tilly cleared her throat to speak past the lump lodged there. “But it’s too late. He has it now. You can’t kill us both, can’t kill Boone and his men too. They’ll figure it out. Your blood will be inside those pretty bells.”

“Pretty bells. Pretty bells,” Denny chanted, wringing his hands beside her.

Mae’s eyes narrowed. “I can’t kill ’em all, but you’re a whore just like your cousin. Playin’ nasty games with that man.” She jabbed the gun forward. “I may be done, but he’ll never have any satisfaction.”

Fear shivered through her, but she held Mae’s cold gaze. “Let my brother go, Mae, and you can take me. Okay?”

Mae hesitated, but then gave a nod.

Tilly turned to Denny and reached up, cupping the sides of his face. “I remember what a fast runner you always were,” she said, fighting the burning at the backs of her eyes. “Think you can run to LeRoy’s bait shop? I’ll be there in a bit. After I find your treasure for Mae.”

Denny glanced at Mae, his eyes narrowing. “You come too, Tilly.”

“I will. Tell you what, we’ll race. But I’ll give you a head start. You go now, Denny.”

His smile brightened. “I’ll be first.”

“You’ll be first,” she whispered to his back as he raced away.

Tilly held still as Mae approached. Waiting for the right moment, but not finding an opening. If she turned away, she had no doubt Mae would shoot her in the back. She’d have to fight her, and Tilly wasn’t sure she could win. Mae had a solid fifty pounds on her and a much longer reach. “Thank you for that,” she said, stalling again. “Denny isn’t any part of this.”

A twig snapped in the underbrush. Mae’s face jerked toward the sound.

Tilly darted forward and shoved Mae’s arm upward, barreling into her and pushing her to the ground, and then dashed toward the large tree.

A shot rang out behind her, accompanied by the whistle of a bullet and the dull thud of metal striking wood. She darted behind the tree and ran smack into the middle of a hard chest.

Jonesy pushed her against the trunk, his hand clamping over her mouth.

Her wide eyes teared as she heard other sounds: several sets of footsteps running toward the canal, the crackle of underbrush. And then a loud explosion.

Until he stepped away, she didn’t realize she was crying. Rough hands drew her against another solid chest, enfolding her as her body shook.

“Shhh, baby. Shhh…”

Tilly balled her fist and struck Boone’s chest. “I’ll cry if I want to.”

Hushed voices sounded all around them. A siren chirped. More movement. A herd of crunching footsteps. But she leaned against Boone, fisted her hand in his shirt, and cried.

Boone rocked her forward and back, his head tucked beside hers, his hands running up and down her back, soothing her.

When Tilly had herself somewhat under control, she leaned away and looked up. “My brother?”

Boone’s arms remained around her. His hands gripped her shoulders. “Safe with Serge at the road.”

“How’d you know?”

“Jonesy followed you. Then the police band went nuts. Your brother was missing. Figured you knew where he was headed. I didn’t want to take any chances, so I rousted the boys.”

She gave him a tremulous smile. “I’m so glad you’re a control freak.”

Boone’s mouth quirked up at the sides, but then his gaze lifted beyond her.

Tilly moved to his side, grateful for the arm he kept around her back when Linc and Bear trudged toward them, blood staining their hands.

Linc’s gaze skipped over her, and he gave Boone a shake of his head.

“What the hell’s goin’ on here, Boone?”

Leon pushed aside brush and entered the clearing, his gun drawn and a deputy behind him, holding a shotgun.

“Mae held Denny and Tilly at gunpoint. When Tilly charged her, we moved in.”

Leon’s eyes narrowed. “And you just happened to be here.”

“I didn’t set it up, if that’s what you’re intimating.”

Tilly gripped Boone’s hand hard and stepped away from his side. “I gave his men the slip. Wanted to find Denny first. I thought…maybe…” She shook her head. “I thought maybe he’d killed Celie. Thought you might have too.” She shrugged before giving him an apologetic stare. “For about a minute.”

Leon blinked and then gave Boone a measured stare.

Boone shrugged. “Yeah, she knows about you and Celie.”

“I couldn’t have hurt her,” Leon said, his mouth thinning as his eyes narrowed. “I loved her, but she loved what you could buy her more.” His gaze fell to Tilly. “Sorry. Don’t mean to speak ill of your kin.”

Tilly forced a faint smile. “Mae killed her, Leon. She thought Celie was pregnant. That she’d lose her job. She was furious and lashed out.”

Boone jerked beside her. She reached out a hand to clasp his. She hadn’t meant to blurt that news.

Leon’s face turned gray. “Never knew. If she was, might have been mine. But evidence went missing. And I’m sure our daddies had the coroner keep any news about a baby quiet.” Leon’s gaze swept the clearing. “And Mae’s where?”

Serge stepped forward. “At the river’s edge. She shot herself. Gun’s beside her body. Check it for ballistics.”

“Dammit.” Leon reached for his radio, called for the coroner, and told dispatch to contact the county to muster a forensics team.

Tilly swayed. It was all too much. Mae had killed Celeste. Her cousin might have died with a baby inside her. It was all so sad. Tilly had nearly been killed by Mae…Suddenly, her knees felt like Jell-O.

Boone bolstered her up, pulling her closer to his side. “Can you save the questions for later? I need to get Tilly somewhere she can sit.”

Leon took one look at Tilly’s face and must have read her shock, because he gave Boone a swift nod, and then walked toward the river.

With tears beginning to track down her cheeks, Tilly didn’t offer a word of protest as Boone picked her up and trudged through the brush toward the road.

Fifteen minutes later, Boone swept Tilly into his arms and carried her up the front steps of Maison Plaisir. Without a word being spoken, help was mustered, a pot of warm tea set on a side table, and Denny was led away to the kitchen to find a meal.

Boone closed the door and then strode back to Tilly, who lay on a chaise in the sunshine spilling through a window, her eyes closed, her head turned toward the warmth.

He sat beside her, worried because she hadn’t said a word since they’d left the river. He didn’t know what to say, was afraid she might still blame him for the danger she and her brother had found themselves in. So he remained silent, his hands pressed together, waiting.

“Boone?”

She sounded fragile, her voice thin. It worried him all the more. “Yes, Tilly?”

“What would you have done if the killer had been Denny?”

“I bought your old house.” Boone released a deep breath. “I’d have followed through getting it fixed up to look like it did when you still lived there. I already hired a caregiver to help him.”

Her head turned, a crease forming between her pale brows. “You’d have done that, even if he’d been the one responsible for Celie’s death?”

Boone nodded. “Denny’s important to you. If he’d been the one, I would have kept that news to myself to make sure he didn’t suffer. I’d have kept him safe and supervised.”

Her gaze lowered to his chest. “So it’s over.”

“Yeah.” Boone looked down at his folded hands. “Funny, I thought I’d feel something.”

“Maybe you’ll finally sleep easier.” Tilly struggled to sit up.

Boone reached out a hand to help her, but she stared at it, so he let it drop.

“I should head back to my place.”

Boone stomach tightened. “This is your place.”

Her eyes filled and her head rolled on the chaise back. “I’ll understand if you want to walk away. From everything here, from me. You accomplished what you came for—Celeste’s murder is solved. You cleared your name once and for all and you saved my life…and my brother’s. You don’t owe me a thing.”

Boone reached out and glided a hand up her leg, letting it rest on her thigh. “I don’t owe you anything…” He snorted, then shifted, coming closer to Tilly. As he pulled near, he spotted her wet, cornflower-blue eyes shining like mirrors.

The tremble of her lower lip was what hurt him most. His gut twisted, and he framed her jaw and cheek with a hand and bent to kiss her.

She sniffed, her mouth opening around a soft sob.

Relief poured through him as he smothered the sound, taking her breaths, raking her tongue with his, laying claim to her lush mouth. When he drew back, he pressed his forehead against hers. “I don’t know what this is between us, Tilly. But I’m not letting it go. I’m not letting
you
go.”

Tilly’s wide, wet eyes studied him. Then her eyelids dipped. Her mouth pouted.

Despite the turmoil swirling inside him, arousal stirred in his groin. He knew her. Knew that look.

Her gaze fell away. “I should be doing something. Making some sort of arrangements. Mae didn’t have anyone.”

“You’d do that for the woman who killed your cousin?”

Tilly locked her glance with his. “She was damaged, somehow. She was sorry about hurting her.”

Boone gave a rough shake of his head. “I’ll see to arrangements. It’s not your worry.”

Again, her lips plumped. The tip of her tongue sneaked out and wet the bottom.

Boone felt that furtive swipe right against his balls.

From beneath the fringe of her dark lashes, her eyes slowly smiled. “I need you, Boone. Please, sir?”

* * *

Tilly should have been exhausted. After making love with Boone, she’d spent the rest of the day at Leon’s office, writing out her statement, answering an endless round of questions, before she’d been released with an admonishment not to leave town any time soon.

She sniffed. Leon sure liked to throw his weight around. Right now, he was the big man in town with a cold case all wrapped up in a tidy bow. No matter that he had only caught the tail end of the excitement. His investigation would provide Bayou Vert the closure the town had needed for so many years.

After she’d returned to the Big House, she’d dined with Boone’s team, this time left to eat her meal in comfortable silence. The easy conversation that surrounded her soothed her nerves. She liked his friends, gruff and rough around the edges, aggressively masculine, but she trusted every one of them because Boone did. Denny had joined them with an endless line of questions about the estate. Linc and Jonesy didn’t show any irritation with his childish curiosity.

Her brother had been led away to bed, the new caregiver sleeping in the room next to his. Until Tilly’s family home in town was ready, they’d both remain on the estate. Then Denny would be returned to familiar surroundings. Something Tilly would be forever in Boone’s debt for, because right after dinner, he handed her the deed to the house on Belle Tierre.

“I can’t take that,” she said, the deed quivering in her grasp.

“Sure you can,” he said, pushing it back. “It’s a gift. I certainly don’t need it.”

“I haven’t earned it.”

His eyebrows quirked. “Will you feel better about accepting it if I attach some strings?”

Holding still, Tilly pressed her lips together to hide a smile she felt growing inside. “You really should expect more in return. I don’t know how you ever got to be such a big-shot CEO when you don’t know how to strike a proper bargain.”

A growl rumbled deep in Boone’s chest and he strode toward her, his hands reaching out.

Tilly gave a yelp and darted away, running past the bed to the French doors and throwing them open. Once outside, she sped down the balcony, passing Serge’s door, running for the wrought-iron stairs that led to ground level.

Before she reached the stairs, an arm snaked around her middle, and she was turned, lifted, and draped over a rock-hard shoulder.

She gasped. Laughter followed. A hand smacked her backside, but she only laughed harder.

Back at his bedroom doors, he set her on her feet, then crowded her against the porch rail, his hands landing on the iron at either side of her hips, bracketing her in.

Moonlight filtering through the big oaks gleamed on the side of his face, skipped the dark sockets of his eyes, and shone bluish in his dark hair. “You look like a pirate,” she whispered.

“You make me feel like one.” Strong hands slid up her sides.

She lifted her chin. “Pirates take what they want.”

Boone’s eyebrows gave a single waggle, and he leered downward. “In that case, I want your clothes.”

“Here?” she asked, glancing around.

“Your brother’s on the opposite side of the house.”

“But your men are crawling all over the estate. Don’t you care what they might see?” She widened her eyes, feigning concern, but she liked this Boone—free of worry, hunger burning in his eyes.

“Let them see what I’m bargaining for…sweet little sub.”

Her breath caught as she understood a direct challenge had been issued.

With her thighs clamping tight from excitement, Tilly leaned away and pulled off her tee, tossing it to the lawn behind her. Then she unsnapped her bra and dangled it off a finger before letting it fall to the ground as well.

Boone swallowed loudly. His gaze dropped from her face to her tightly beaded nipples. His stance widened, and she wondered if he needed the extra room because he was growing aroused.

Tilly heard footsteps crunch below her, but lifted her chin, determined not to betray any embarrassment. Boone deserved courage. She needed to show him she trusted him implicitly. She unsnapped her shorts and pushed them and her undies off her hips, stepping out of them and then giving them a backward kick.

Boone stood still, his nostrils flaring, his gaze raking her body.

Tilly stood proudly on the balcony, knowing her hair was silver in the moonlight, and that her body was softly gilded. She read approval in Boone’s eyes, and that was all she needed to remain strong while she waited for his response.

“Turn around and grip the rail,” he said, his tone firm, but the edges smoothed by his honeyed drawl. “Then bend over, your arms stretched, your legs spread.”

Delight rather than shock rippled through her at his softly worded command. He’d take her standing. Pleasure swept like a wave over her skin, pricking up goose bumps and wetting her folds. Lord, she’d come a long way.

He stepped back, his hands on his hips, waiting.

On a heel, she turned silently, looking out over the balcony and knowing any of the men combing the estate could see her pale skin perfectly illuminated in moonlight. She wasn’t so inured she didn’t blush, but joy surpassed any misgivings.

Bending at the waist, she reached out and gripped the porch rail, and then slowly shifted her feet apart on the plank floor. Her breasts were stretched, the nipples tingling. Her pussy and cheeks parted.

The rustle of clothing behind her made her shiver with delight. She jerked slightly when a hand smoothed over her ass, then beneath her, rubbing over her stomach, her ribs, and then closing around one ripened breast. “Oh, Boone.” She sighed, letting her back sink to tilt her ass toward him.

Another hand slipped between her legs to fondle her pussy, cupping her smooth sex, warming it with his hand, before sliding two fingers inside her.

Beyond caring what anyone saw or heard, she welcomed the lush, wet sound her body made as he fondled her, the intrusion of his skillful fingers as he prodded both holes. She was his. To pleasure or hurt. To love or set aside. She’d decided to open her heart. Live without expectations. Trust he’d take care of her. For now.

Their attraction was powerful. Inevitable. Like the storms rumbling in from the Gulf. Devastation was something one prepared for, but didn’t live in fear of. One accepted change. Cherished good times, and soldiered through the bad.

“You’re thinking too much.” A kiss landed on one hip. “Am I boring you?”

Tilly tossed back her hair. “I’m not bored, Boone. I’m happy.”

Another kiss landed, this one followed by a lick through the crease dividing her buttocks. She shied from the intimacy but didn’t voice her concern. Now she knew better.

“I’ll be traveling soon,” he murmured. “We still have the Tex-Oil trouble in Mexico to resolve.”

Warm air wafted along her lower back. She held her breath and raised her head. “I’ll miss you.”

Fingers dug into her soft bottom. “You’ll be with me. First I’m taking you to my club. Then we’ll head back to Mexico. We have that hostage situation to resolve.”

Happiness unfurled inside her. She’d be with him. “I haven’t proven to be much help. I think I’m a lousy personal assistant.”

“This time I’ll bring you into the meetings. Let you see the inner workings of my operations.” His hand smoothed over an ass cheek.

Her heart kicked up another notch. “You have some very capable men helping you. You have Beatrice.”

“Beatrice has been reassigned.”

At this statement, a thrill ran through her. “So I will be your secretary.”

“Baby, you’ll be so much more. Trust me, Tilly. The work will be rewarding. The perks…Well, they start now…”

He thrust his fingers deep and gave her a swirl that had her rising on her toes, her tummy sucking inward. “Good Lord, Boone. Do that again.”

The bristly hairs on his thighs tickled the backs of hers as he lowered himself behind her to the wood floor. His fingers pulled away, but he didn’t leave her wanting. With his hands clutching the globes of her ass, his mouth opened to suck her folds inside.

A finger toggled her clit while he feasted, and Tilly had no doubts every one of his team watched. A gust of laughter caught her by surprise. She hoped someday to rerun the footage, because she knew for sure the sight of Boone Benoit, naked and kneeling behind her, was an image that would take any woman’s breath away.

Boone pulled back.

She dragged in deep breaths, still clenching her fingers around the edge of the porch rail. The moment his cockhead butted against her swollen pussy, she groaned. Opening her stance, she waited while he shifted. Glancing to the side, she noted the wide placement of his feet as he lowered to match the height of her hips. Then he leaned over her, his hands bracketing hers, and began to pump, slowly working his way deeper and deeper inside her body.

Before long, his lunges jarred her body, forced out her breaths in deep, labored grunts. But she didn’t care, didn’t want it to end. His powerful body buffeted hers from behind and she embraced the power, reveled in the fact that for right now, Boone was staking his claim in front of everyone who mattered to him.

She had no doubt that was what this was about. As she writhed and moaned, her body shuddering as desire curled tighter and tighter around her core, she stared at the length of the long graveled drive, down the long, dark tunnel where oak branches above interwove, draped with thick moss. Where a dark, painful past was slowly undergoing a glorious resurrection. It wasn’t just sex.

Their bodies connected in the most intimate way. She felt as though he marked her, branded her with his sweat and seed. She widened her stance and stepped atop his feet, heard his soft grunting laughter, but couldn’t smile herself, because she was close. So close.

Her skin tingled, her pussy burned, her hard clit throbbed. “Boone,” she gasped as the first wave of pleasure rolled across her body.

“Come, baby. Make some noise.”

Freed, she bucked against him, letting loose a long wail as she orgasmed. Her pussy clenched around his cock, spasms rippling up her channel, massaging his cock, pulling him deeper.

He slammed against her bottom, grinding deep, pounding her in shallow bursts that rocked her whole body. She tightened her grip on the porch rail, afraid she’d be shaken off.

Then Boone moved his arms, encircling her body while he remained curled over her back and rutting wildly inside her, until at last, he gave a muffled shout.

When he slowed, he reached up and leaned on the rail for support, dragging deep ragged breaths into his lungs.