The District (12 page)

But he wouldn’t be here if he knew the truth. Was it so wrong for her to enjoy one night with him before reality came crashing down around both of them?

“Ouch!”

“I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”

“It hurt so much, it felt good.” He let out a long breath. “I don’t know how you have so much power in those long, thin fingers of yours.”

Leaning over his shoulder, she flexed her fingers. “It’s magic.”

He caught her wrists and pulled her onto his lap.

She widened her eyes. “How am I going to massage your back from here?”

“I have other body parts that are more in need of a massage.” He quirked his eyebrows up and down.

She snorted. “Where did you learn that line?”

“You mean, it didn’t work?”

“Did I,” she said as she straddled his thighs and draped her arms around his neck, “say that?”

He put his hands around her waist, pulling her closer. “I always was a smooth one with the lines.”

The kiss he planted on her lips had the effect of ten glasses of wine as warmth flooded her body. She leaned into him, deepening the kiss, exploring his mouth with her tongue.

It felt as if the two years they’d been apart had never happened. The taste of his mouth, the pressure of his thumbs on her rib cage, the way his beard scratched her chin—the feelings rushed back in, overwhelming her.

He fell onto his back, whether from the enthusiasm of her embrace or his own desire to position her body on top of his, she didn’t know or care.

Their legs dangled off the edge of the bed while their torsos met along every line. His hands swept beneath her blouse, spanning her bare back. He unhooked her bra, and then his fingers crept toward the waistband of her skirt. He felt for the zipper and slid it down.

He rose to his elbows beneath her. “Can we stretch out on the bed so I don’t lose circulation in my legs?”

She rolled from his body into the stack of pillows crunched against the headboard. “I don’t want you losing circulation anywhere.”

Chuckling, he sat up and pulled off his motorcycle boots. Then he pulled his black T-shirt over his head and threw it over his shoulder.

She crossed her arms behind her head and smacked her lips.

“What am I, a piece of meat?”

Her eyes roamed over his bare torso and zeroed in on the bulge in his tight jeans. “Mmm, yeah.”

He grabbed her legs still hanging off the edge of the bed, and swung them around so that she was stretched out on top of the bedspread. Her skirt gaped open where he’d unzipped it before, and he pulled it over her hips and down her legs.

She kicked it off. “Never liked that skirt anyway.”

“I like it—off.” He ran his fingertip along the top band of her black thigh-high stockings. “These are kind of kinky.”

“I can leave them in place if they turn you on.”

“This,” he murmured as he rolled one stocking down over her thigh and calf and then pulled it off, “turns me on.”

He gave the other stocking the same treatment. The bed dipped as he straddled her hips and fumbled with the buttons of her blouse.

“You’d better take over before I pop these buttons.”

She crossed her hands over her chest. “Now this blouse I like.”

She unbuttoned each of the tiny pearl buttons until the blouse fell open. He’d already unhooked her bra and it lay across her breasts, barely covering them. She hoisted up to her elbows and shrugged out of the blouse and bra. She swept them off the bed with one impatient motion.

His hands took the place of her bra as he cupped her breasts, running his thumbs across her peaked nipples.

She watched him out of half-closed eyes, breathing in his scent. She’d never forgotten it. When he left her, he’d left a T-shirt behind in her laundry basket and she hadn’t washed that T-shirt for months. Slept in it even as her belly grew bigger with Kendall.

She squeezed her eyes shut.
Don’t think about the lie right now. Don’t think at all.

He buried his face between her breasts and kissed the insides. “Some women have all the luck, don’t they?”

“Like me? I
am
enjoying myself, but you’ve gotten a little cocky, haven’t you?”

He swirled his tongue around one nipple, and she gasped.

“I meant,” he said, touching his tongue to the tip of the other breast, “you’ve put on a little weight since I last saw you, but it went to all the right places. I’ve always loved your breasts, but now they’re lovable and luscious.”

“I never realized you were such a breast man.”

“I wasn’t—not until the precise moment I saw yours.”

To emphasize his point, or maybe just to drive her crazy, he sealed his mouth over her right breast and suckled her.

Her hips jerked up, and she moaned. “I think my younger, smaller breasts feel jealous.”

He murmured something since he obviously didn’t want to release her. And she could totally live with that.

She reached for the belt on his jeans. “Why do you even still have these on?”

“Protection.” He laid a kiss on her mouth. “Did you always talk this much during sex?”

“You’re the one analyzing my body parts.” She yanked on the buttons of his fly and thrust her hand into the gap. “Did any of your body parts get bigger in the past two years?”

“Yeah, baby. Just you wait and see.”

“I know your lines have gotten cornier.” She peeled his jeans from his narrow hips and tugged on his briefs. His erection filled her hand.

She widened her eyes. “Oh, yes, much bigger than I remember.”

“You don’t have to be sarcastic about it.” He staggered from the bed and pulled off his jeans and briefs, letting them drop to the floor. “One last item.”

Hunching forward, he grabbed the waistband of her panties and yanked them down and off her body.

She squirmed and reached out to him, wiggling her fingers. “You can’t just leave a girl naked without warming her up.”

He fell on top of her heavily, and she accepted the weight of him, welcomed it.

She wrapped her legs and arms around him as if to keep him in place.

He showered kisses on her face. “I was such an idiot. I should’ve been doing this twenty-three months ago. Stupid pride.”

She didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to think. Threading her fingers through his thick, wavy hair, she lifted her head to kiss his mouth. He sealed his body to hers even more, his erection probing her thigh.

He growled in her ear. “Are you ready for me?”

The ability to speak had escaped her, so she just nodded.

“Let me see.”

He inched down her body, leaving a trail of kisses and nibbles and then thrust his tongue inside her.

Gasping, she cradled his head with her thighs. And then the teasing began. He sucked her into his mouth, driving her to the edge of madness. Pulling back, he tested her with his fingers and she closed around him with a moan.

His tongue circled her heated flesh again and she pumped her hips in encouragement. This time when his lips drew her into his mouth, she exploded.

While her climax rocked her body, he drove into her, extending the exquisite pleasure that engulfed her. As their hips joined together, moved in unison, he buried his face into her neck.

As his lips pressed against her throat, she could feel his bared teeth against her skin. She whispered, “Let go.”

His body stiffened and then he plowed into her deeper and deeper, crying out his release, and she took all of him. She’d always take all of him.

When her cell phone rang, it took her several seconds to recall where she was. Hell, it took her several seconds to recall
who
she was.

Then the adrenaline pumped through her body. The phone.

Eric growled, his voice muffled between her breasts. “It’s after midnight. Who’s calling you this late?”

“I—I...” His body was still crushing hers and she couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t get to her phone.

He reached it first, and the lighted display illuminated the scowl on his face. “Oh, my God. It’s your mother. And I was ready to go another round with you.”

Christina huffed out choppy breaths.
Kendall.
It had to be Kendall.

“Give it to me.” Her voice grated against her own ears, and Eric’s eyebrows shot up to the tousled lock of hair hanging across his forehead.

He handed the phone to her, and shifted off her body.

With trembling fingers, she tapped the phone to answer it. “Mom? What is it?”

It must’ve been the quaver in her voice that made Eric’s head jerk up. Now he’d be listening to every word she said, and she couldn’t ask him to leave—not now.

Her mother’s voice soothed on the other end. “I’m sorry to call you so late, but Kendall had a nightmare. You know—one of
those
nightmares.”

“I-is she okay now?”

“She’s shaky. I got her to stop crying, but only because I promised to call Mommy. She needs to hear your voice, Christina.”

“Of course. Put her on.”

“Mama.”

“Hi, girly-girl. It was just a dream.”

“I was scared, Mama. Where are you?”

“I know they’re scary, but they’re just dreams. They can’t hurt you.”

She could feel Eric’s eyes burning a hole in the side of her face.

“Sleep with Mama.”

“You can sleep with G-Ma. I’ll be home soon.” She made kissing noises into the phone. “I’m sending smooches to you.”

“Got them.”

Her mom came back on the phone. “She’s okay. She just needed to hear your voice. She’ll probably forget about it tomorrow.”

“Was it the same nightmare?”

“Same thing—people standing around chanting. Oh, she doesn’t call it chanting, but that’s what it sounds like to me.”

Christina shivered. She’d heard enough chanting for one night.

“Let Kendall sleep with you, Mom.”

“I will, just like I did when you had nightmares.”

Christina didn’t want to end the call and face Eric, but she didn’t have a choice. She cupped the dead phone between two hands and stared down at it.

Eric’s low voice sounded a million miles away. “What was that all about? Who’s Kendall?”

“Kendall’s my daughter.” He sucked in a quick breath, and she looked up finally to meet the green flame in his eyes. “And yours.”

Chapter Thirteen

The sledgehammer hit him between the eyes and he blinked. The room tilted. He opened his mouth and closed it again.

Christina’s chest rose and fell, her eyes never leaving his, never flinching. Clear and full of truth for the first time since he saw her here.

“How old?” He smacked his forehead with the heel of his hand. “She’s gotta be, what, two? Two and a half?”

“Kendall’s two.”

He clenched his jaw so hard it ached. “I was right about you in the first place, wasn’t I? You’re a liar, a deceiver.”

Her dark eyes filled with tears, which rapidly rolled down her face. “You have to let me explain.”

“Why?” He dragged a hand through his hair. “Why is it you’re always explaining yourself to me?”

“Just let me...”

“It’s late. I’m tired.” He scooped up his clothes from the floor and stalked to the adjoining door. He slammed it because it gave him something to do and made him feel better. Then he clicked the dead bolt, which made him feel even better.

He dropped his clothes on the floor and fell across the bed. He had a daughter, a two-year-old daughter named Kendall.

And Christina had kept her from him.

The next morning he studied his face in the mirror above the bathroom vanity. He didn’t look any different. He didn’t look like a father.

A million questions assailed his brain, and he didn’t want to speak to the one person who had all the answers. How long had she planned to keep him in the dark? Until Kendall was eighteen?

Kendall. Kendall Brody. He liked it. Unless it was Kendall Sandoval—he liked that, too.

He stepped into the shower and let the hot spray pummel his back. He still had Christina on his hands and lips. He turned to face the showerhead, grabbing the little bar of soap from the shower caddy. He lathered up his hands and washed away her scent, opened his mouth and filled it with water.

Who was he kidding? He’d never wash her away. And if he wanted to be a part of his daughter’s life, he’d have to find some way to work with Christina. He did want to be a part of Kendall’s life.

Even though he’d never wanted kids. He’d made that clear to Christina before they’d gotten engaged. She was fine with it—then.

Is that why she hadn’t told him about her pregnancy?

He cursed and aimed the spray of water at his face. Why was he making excuses for her? She’d gotten pregnant and had a baby, his baby, and never told him about it. How did you excuse that?

He finished his shower and got dressed. Standing in the middle of the floor, he stared at the door leading to Christina’s room. What now? They still had a case to solve.

His gaze shifted to his laptop on the table by the window. And he had a report to finish for Rich and the SFPD. Hell, maybe the SFPD could take over from here. They’d know the local witch scene better than he and Christina did.

Although she seemed to know more about her father’s coven than she’d let on—just another deception on her part. She was probably holding out on him so she could swoop in and solve the case by herself.

He twirled the chair around and straddled it, resting his chin on the back and skimming the words of his report.

He reached around the chair, brought up a search engine and typed in Kendall Brody. Did a two-year-old have an internet footprint yet? A Realtor and a weathercaster popped up. He tried Kendall Sandoval next and found a collegiate volleyball player. What did he expect to find? All of the answers lay on the other side of that wall.

The knock came and he closed out of the search engine.

“Yeah?”

“Can we talk now, Eric? If you don’t want to, I understand.”

He slid off the back of the chair and threw the door open. She’d replaced her high heels with flip-flops and her shorter stature made her look vulnerable and small. Probably calculated.

“Come on in.” He turned his back on her and retreated to the window. He tugged on the rod for the filmy white curtains and gazed into the bustling street below.

She remained standing, too, twisting her fingers in front of her. “I want to tell you why I kept Kendall from you—at first—because I always planned to tell you about her.”

“When you needed help with college expenses?”

She pressed her lips together. “Before that. I’m not gonna make excuses for myself, but we had decided we weren’t going to have kids, right?”

He nodded.

“You had some crazy idea that you wouldn’t be a good father because of your kidnapping experience, or maybe you were just afraid. I could never fathom the big strong Eric Brody being afraid of anything, but I saw what happened when you lost that kid.”

“Noah Beckett.” His shoulders ached with a heaviness he thought he’d shrugged off a year ago.

“I remember his name.” Her words were a whisper. “Noah’s death only convinced me further to keep my pregnancy from you. I know you blamed yourself for that debacle, but it was the Bureau, the Bureau’s policies, not you that caused Noah’s death.”

“When did you know you were pregnant?” His jaw felt stiff as he formed the words.

“I suspected just about the time the Beckett case ended.”

“That’s a pretty way of putting it.”

She flicked her fingers in the air. “Then I knew for sure after you discovered my notes, accused me of using you to write about your family and then dumping me. I found out for sure then.”

“And you didn’t get on the phone and let me know, why?”

She laughed, a hard and brittle sound. “Hello, Eric? You had just dumped me because you didn’t trust me, and now I was pregnant when I’d already agreed to your no-kids policy. Yeah, that would’ve gone over really well.”

“So? At that point, it was no longer about you.”

A shaky breath escaped her lips and she dipped her head, her long hair falling across her face. “I realize that. There was also the small matter of contacting you. You’d taken a leave of absence, dropped off the radar. Nobody knew where you were. Your brothers didn’t know, or you’d given them orders not to tell me.”

A ball of heat lodged in his chest. His loyal brothers.

“I returned. I returned to the Bureau.”

“You call working in South America on an undercover drug task force returning? I was supposed to drop that bombshell on you under those circumstances?”

“You have an answer for everything, Christina. You always did.”

Closing her eyes, she dragged a breath through her nose, her nostrils flaring. “Do you want to know about your daughter? See her pictures?”

“Of course.”

“Now you want a child because you have one?”

“Give me a break.”

Color flooded her cheeks, but she pulled her phone from her back pocket. “I have just about every stage of her life on my phone.”

“Then, thank God for cell phones.”

She perched on the end of the love seat. “D-do you want to join me?”

He took two long steps toward the love seat and sat on the cushion next to her. His weight made the sofa dip, and she tipped toward him, brushing his shoulder. He stiffened and she pulled away.

Holding the phone in front of him, she said, “First pics are from the hospital.”

The phone display came alive with a picture of Christina, her hair scooped back in a ponytail, smiling into the tiny face of a baby—his daughter.

He took the phone from her and held it up to his face, drinking in the little button nose and the wide eyes below a tuft of dark hair peeking from a pink cap.

He breathed out one word as his throat tightened.
“Beautiful.”

“Her name’s Kendall Rose Brody.”

He twisted his head to the side. “Same middle name as my mother.”

“I know that.” She leaned over and swept her fingertip across the display. “Next.”

His little girl’s life flashed before him on the cell phone display. It was like time-lapse photography, watching her change from newborn to chubby-cheeked baby to a mobile creature crawling and scooting on the floor. She resembled her mother, but he could see his features in her. The pictures and Christina’s constant commentary filled him with longing...and resentment.

After she showed him the last picture, a dainty toddler in head-to-toe pink, hugging a stuffed white bear, he collapsed against the back of the love seat.

“She’s sweet and wonderful, and I want you to meet her as soon as we wrap up this case—if you want to.”

“Of course I want to see my own daughter. Whatever gave you the idea that I wouldn’t want to know my daughter? What gave you the right to keep her from me?”

She sighed. “I’m sorry, Eric.”

He closed his eyes, blocking out his daughter’s face and the years of memories he’d lost. “I was working on the report for Rich. I’ll email it to him tomorrow morning.”

“Sounds good. I’d like to talk to Nigel today if we can find him.”

Back to business. “Do you still think he attacked you last night?”

“No, but he might know who Uma is, and since he seems a little less connected to the whole coven thing, he might be more forthcoming about what this coven has done that’s so bad and who’d want to take them out.”

“It just so happens,” he stated as he pushed up from the love seat and shuffled through the file on the desk, “I got his card last night.”

“Really?” She pocketed her phone and joined him at the table. “What does an old hippie do for a living?”

He flicked the card between his fingers. “He restores old books.”

“Interesting. I wonder if that’s what brought him into Libby’s shop in the first place.”

“Most likely. I’m going to get some breakfast and work on the report. I’ll give Nigel a call.”

On the one hand, he wanted Christina to ask to join him so he could grill her some more about Kendall, but sitting across from her would be hard. Before that phone call last night, they’d given in to the sexual heat that had been simmering between them for the past two days. The sex had been mind-blowing, and he’d been ready to take her again—before the phone call.

Her phone rang and she answered it, putting it on speaker. She didn’t have a need for any more private conversations.

“Hi, Mom. How’s Kendall this morning?” Her eyes met his as she talked on the phone.

“She’s good. I told you she wouldn’t remember much.”

She paused and held up her finger to him. “I told Eric about Kendall.”

That was obviously for his benefit, but it did make it more real.

“He’s eager to meet her, and yeah, he’s pissed off at me.” She raised her brows at him.

Was that to verify that he was eager to meet Kendall or that he was still pissed off at her? Right on both counts. He nodded.

“After this case. I’ll see if he wants to come down to San Miguel.”

She ended the call and faced him with her hands on her hips. “Do you want to?”

“Do I want to what?” He swung the chair around and tapped the keyboard of the laptop.

“Don’t pretend you weren’t listening to every word we were saying.”

“Guilty.” He threw up his hands.

“Do you want to come with me to San Miguel when this case is over to meet Kendall?”

“Of course. What does she know about me?”

“She just knows her daddy is busy working.” She bit her lip.

Maybe it was better if she didn’t sit across from him at the breakfast table.

“I’m gonna head out for some breakfast.”

“Okay. I’m going to grab a bagel from the coffee place downstairs, hit the hotel gym and take another crack at that case.” She turned at the adjoining door. “Let me know what happens with Nigel, okay?”

“Will do.”

She closed the door and kicked a stray shoe across the room. He wanted to get as far away from her as possible. But she didn’t blame him.

The Kendall slide show went over well, but it must’ve twisted the knife a little to see all that he’d missed.

It had all seemed so clear-cut two years ago. Now looking into Eric’s face, she didn’t know what she’d been thinking. Okay, so she’d ruined any chance she had of reconciling with him, but he seemed excited about meeting his daughter. Maybe he’d forgive her by the time Kendall got married.

She picked up the room and the evidence of a night of passion that had taken a wrong turn—actually had been derailed. Hell, it crashed and burned. But not before Eric Brody had satisfied every need she had and some she didn’t even know she had.

She headed downstairs to the lobby, keeping an eye out for Eric—just in case he changed his mind about breakfast.

She bought a banana and a bagel and perched on a stool at one of the high tables scattered around the coffee shop.

As she spread cream cheese on one half of the bagel, her phone rang. Was Eric lonely? She grabbed the phone, but the display showed a blocked number. She answered anyway.

“Christina, it’s Vivi.”

Christina’s pulse jumped. “Vivi, are you still in Mexico?”

Her sister clicked her tongue. “How did you know that?”

“I had someone track you down. I was worried about you after your friend, Darius, found me and told me you were missing.”

“Darius contacted you?”

“He was worried. Why didn’t you tell him where you were going?”

“I don’t trust anyone right now and neither should you. How did you track me down? Who found me?”

“My coworker’s brother. He’s a private investigator. Don’t worry. He’s not going to tell anyone where you are. What’s going on?”

“I was in danger, Christina. I’m fine now, but you’re not.”

“If you’re talking about this purge of Dad’s coven, I know all about the danger.”

“How do you know about any of this? You’ve never been involved before.”

“I’m working a case, Vivi.”

“Isn’t that a...coincidence?”

She knew Vivi didn’t believe in coincidences. “Yeah, it is. I work murder cases, Vivi.”

“Just be careful, Christina, and don’t believe everything you hear.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means there’s no reason for our coven to be targeted. There are always a few bad apples that taint the rest of us. There’s something else going on.”

Christina sucked a smudge of cream cheese from her finger. “What exactly have these bad apples been doing?”

Her sister whispered, “Black magic.”