Married by Monday (Weekday Brides) (10 page)

He wanted to make love with her, needed to prove they were more than friends. A tiny voice in the back of his head warned him that she was vulnerable tonight. Spent from a taxing day filled with reporters and cops.

But as he filled his palm with her breast and her nipple tightened into a small bud of need, he knew he couldn’t walk away from her now without igniting her anger. He pinched her nipple, and she let out an uncharacteristic squeak. He brought his lips back to hers and smiled under her kiss.

Eliza gripped his hips and moved against him. She should be pushing him away, stopping this reckless act that wouldn’t end well.

She couldn’t. Living her life the way she had, never knowing what tomorrow would bring made her want this more than taking her next breath. Somewhere between dodging Jim and Dean and cocktails on the beach, Eliza realized that through all her bravado, she might just have to uproot her entire life in order to stay alive.

That meant saying goodbye to Carter. Saying goodbye to those she’d foolishly allowed into her heart.

So when Carter found the waistband of her pants and pushed his way inside, Eliza didn’t stop him. Instead, she lifted away from the counter and opened her legs wider.

He sought the damp heat of her sex, and sparks danced behind her closed eyes. Eliza gasped under his kiss as his fingers discovered her tight need and began to unravel her passion. One of her legs wound around his as she struggled to breathe.

She could feel the weight of his stare as he watched her under his hooded gaze. There was no room for embarrassment here. Only the need to find the promised release.

“
Yes,” she whispered, moving with him. She wanted more than his fingers dancing over her sex, but she’d settle for this.

Her cries grew more frantic and her core dampened his fingers. He moved faster and penetrated her with a skillful digit. She gripped him with every muscle of her body as he pushed her over the edge. “Oh, Carter.”

He moved slowly a few times. She trembled in an overexcited response after her orgasm. Eliza dropped her head onto his shoulder as he removed his hand and caressed her hip.

“
That shouldn’t have happened,” she mumbled. He probably expected her to fight, but she was out of energy and at a loss of words.

“
Shh,” he hushed her. “We’ve been sniffing around
this
for years.”

She nodded and didn’t trust herself to speak.

After a brief hug and a kiss to her forehead, he stepped back, keeping his hands on her arms.

Eliza adjusted her clothing and met his gaze. “What about you?” she asked when she caught sight of his aroused state.

“
We’re good,” he assured her with a half smile.

Her eyes dipped as fatigue took over.

“
I should go,” he said.

They’d pushed through enough boundaries for one night. And if he felt secure that she’d be here tomorrow, he wouldn’t feel the need to keep watch on her all night.

Chapter Eight

Sleep eluded him most of the night. Finally, at four in the morning Carter gave up and took a tepid shower. Beat the hell out of the freezing cold one he’d taken the night before. He’d do it all again. One taste of Eliza was not going to be enough. He knew it wouldn’t be. Maybe that was why he didn’t give into the urge to kiss her over the past two years. The verbal sparring was the only release of the sexual tension that had built.

Not anymore. During the few hours of rest he’d managed, he cleared his head of the emotions clogging his thought processes and realized what he needed to do was to learn Eliza’s secrets.

He shoved into a Friday casual suit, leaving the tie and jacket off until he needed to leave his house.

The kitchen wasn’t a place he spent much time, but he could manage a small breakfast. He set the coffee maker to brew and fired up his computer.

Searching for Eliza Havens before her eighteenth birthday had already come up empty. “You didn’t drop out of the sky,” he said to himself. He ran a search on her last name and surprisingly didn’t come up with much other than the media coverage from the day before and anything concerning Blake and Samantha. There were a few photos taken of different social events over the last couple of years. In each one, Eliza’s face was partially hidden from view. Even one of the two of them at Blake’s Texas wedding. It was almost as if Eliza knew the camera was pointed at her and she didn’t want her face seen.

Carter poured himself a cup of black coffee and out of habit turned on the television set to the news. The last he heard, the media coverage from the day before was still painting him in a dim light. Yet instead of doing whatever he could to grow his points in the polls, he was searching the net to uncover Eliza’s past.

What did he really know about her? He removed a legal pad from his desk and wrote her name at the top of the page.

Age? He didn’t know. He guessed it to be in her late twenties.

Parents? She never spoke of them. In fact, she never spoke of family at all. He placed a big question mark by the word
parents
.

Born? He assumed California. She didn’t talk about living anywhere else.

School? Carter ran a hand through his hair and tossed the pen on the desk.

Jesus, he knew nothing about her. How shitty was that?

After a couple more sips of coffee, he turned the page of the pad over and wrote down what he did know.

Eliza Havens, he scribbled her name and circled it twice.

He’d known her for two years. She’d been Samantha’s friend for several before that.

He wrote down other words that came to mind when her image flashed in his brain. Smart. Resourceful. Goal Oriented. Beautiful. Witty. Secretive. Carries a gun. He circled this twice.

Why would someone carry a gun? Law enforcement or federal officer, but that didn’t make sense. Up until yesterday, he’d not seen her around any official of any kind. Then those two detectives knocked on the door.

Carter dropped his hand on his desk. “Of course.” He wasn’t looking in the right place for answers.

It was just after five in the morning. Too early to call in favors.

He warmed up his coffee and started a search in the LAPD profile to see if he could recognize the faces of the men who showed up at his door.

An hour later, he had two names. Dean Brown and James Fletcher. Long time detectives in good standing with the department. They were under the heading of Special Operations. How generic could it get.

He picked up the phone and dialed a contact in New York.

“
Yeah?”

“
Hey Roger, it’s Carter.”

Carter had known Roger even longer than he’d known Blake. The two of them operated in different worlds now, but at one time, they’d been close. “Well hello, governor. How the hell are you?”

“
I’m not the governor yet.”

“
Give it time, give it time,” his friend chuckled. “What has you calling me?”

“
Can’t a guy call a friend?”

“
Ha! You’re too busy for friends. Especially those of us who never left New York.”

Carter could hear the busy station in the background of the call, phones ringing and someone swearing up a blue streak. Criminal or cop, it was hard to tell. Sadly, Roger spoke the truth. There were very few people Carter kept up with unless the involved climbing to the next tier of his career.

“
How’s Beverly?”

“
Good. Ready to pop any day.”

Carter cradled his head in his free hand. He’d forgotten all about her pregnancy. “Everything’s good though? The baby and mom are doing fine?”

“
She’s great. Roger Junior should be here by the end of the month.”

“
Do you know if it’s a boy?”

Roger huffed. “Doctor said the cord was in the way of a good view, but I’d like to think that cord was just my boy taking after his old man. Besides having a girl scares the crap out of me.”

Carter envisioned Roger and his two hundred plus pounds holding a six-pound infant. What a sight. “You’re going to be a great dad.”

There was a pause on the line. “So, why are you really calling? Need a little help counselor?”

Carter took his pen and flipped the pages of his desk calendar and scribbled Rogers name on a random date a couple of weeks away. He really did need to check on his friend and his expecting wife just to see how they were. “I do have a couple of questions you might be able to help me with.”

Roger didn’t seem pissed that he was right about a reason for the call. “Shoot.”

“
I ran into a couple of LAPD detectives who work under the title of Special Operations. Any idea what that could be?”

“
Could be anything from homicide to making sure someone like you is protected against a viable threat. Where did you meet these two?”

“
They wanted to talk to my…to a friend of mine. She didn’t seem surprised to see them.”

“
A friend huh?”

“
A special friend,” Carter said.

“
What else can you tell me?”

Carter debated his options. He gave Roger a small profile of Eliza. Told him she was an engaging, intelligent woman whose private life was her own. He ended his description by telling Roger that she carried a handgun.

“
What’s she afraid of?” Roger asked him.

“
I don’t know. She’s not a needy woman. In fact, she managed to lose my bodyguard and the two detectives in broad daylight.”

“
You sure she’s not a cop?”

“
Positive.”

“
You gonna give me her name or are you gonna make me guess?”

With all the media painting Eliza as his girlfriend, Carter knew Roger would figure it out sooner than later. “Eliza Havens. You know I need this kept quiet.”

“
Well, I guess I should stop updating my Facebook page then,” Roger teased. “I got your back. Let me do a little digging. If she is carrying legally, there will be a traceable record as to her reason why. Getting a
conceal and carry
for a civilian is damn near impossible in California. Here too,” he added. “Makes me glad I’m a cop.”

“
Thanks Roger.”

“
Oh, do you have a name on the detectives?”

Carter gave him the names, and they said their goodbyes.

****

Eliza lifted the wig in the bottom of her closet and cringed. She’d forced herself out of bed early, fully intending to pack a bag and move on.

Now she sat cross-legged in front of her half filled suitcase with doubts.

She and Samantha had built an amazing friendship. Little Eddie was like a nephew to Eliza, and she couldn’t imagine not seeing his chubby little face grow up. Even Gwen and all her pent-up haughty ways had grown on her.

Then there was Alliance. The business Samantha had started and they now ran together. Eliza envisioned some of the women she’d grown to know through Alliance. Some of them came from ugly families who’d used their children like pawns on a chessboard to get what they’d wanted. These women searching out husbands to keep them financially stable did so to get what they wanted and to tick off their families. Each story was unique. Each one believable.

When she thought about it, Eliza’s story wasn’t as sad as some. At least her parents had loved her before their deaths.

She remembered their voices at times in the night when everything was still and quiet. The soft way her mother would speak to her and tell her a bedtime story. Her father always called her pumpkin in his deep, booming voice.

Her parents had this crazy love that wrapped around her and kept her safe.

And in one night, all of that shattered into a zillion pieces.

Eliza swiped a tear from her face and forced the painful memories aside. She missed having a family to call her own and had found some of that love with her friends.

She shoved away from the suitcase and jumped to her feet. After a fast rummage though her drawers, she found the outfit she was looking for and put it on.

She wouldn’t run. Not yet. She’d take Jim’s advice and duck out of the public eye. Brush up on a few moves that kept her confident, if not safe.

And she’d watch.

She’d listen.

And run like hell if her past wanted to catch up with her and threaten those she’d grown to love.

****

Dean sucked in a full lung of nicotine and let it stream out between pursed lips. He’d tried kicking the habit over the years and finally gave into the fact that he was a smoker. Wasn’t going to change no matter how much gum he chewed or how many bogus psychological bullshit tapes he listened to.

He’d been a cop since his early twenties, had said “I do” twice, and then gave up half his shit twice again to say “I sure as hell don’t.”

There were very few constants in his life. Jim was the closest thing to a brother he’d ever had and even his own daughter didn’t go out of the way to call, even on Father’s day.