The Next Mrs. Blackthorne (Bitter Creek Book 6) (25 page)

He took his time coming to climax. Which gave her longer to find her own pleasure. Libby felt Clay’s muscles tighten beneath her hands, felt her own body begin to spasm and followed his urging to leap into the abyss.

She heard him cry out at the ultimate moment, and exulted in the pleasure she’d brought him, and the joy she’d found herself. Their chests heaved in unison, gasping enough air to keep them alive. Clay sank onto the bed beside her and pulled her into his embrace, shoving her hair back from her forehead to plant a tender kiss in its place.

Libby smiled to herself as she brushed a dark curl back from Clay’s sweaty forehead, too exhausted even to lift herself up to kiss him in return.

“How about sharing whatever it is you find so amusing,” Clay said.

“That’s joy you see, not amusement,” Libby said. “I’m happy.”

“Good,” Clay said. “I’m happy, too. Especially when I consider the fact that we have an entire weekend ahead of us.” He waggled his eyebrows, and Libby laughed aloud.

Clay leaned close and kissed her mouth ever so softly.

“What was that for?” Libby asked.

“Just because,” Clay said. He turned her so her rear end was spooned into his midsection and settled his hands beneath her breasts.

A moment later, Clay realized she was asleep. And that she’d never responded to his proposal.

As Libby yawned and stretched in bed, her hand brushed against naked male flesh. Her eyes popped open, and she looked beside her. Clay was lying face-down, dead to the world. Libby smiled to herself. The two of them hadn’t gotten out of bed at all Saturday except to nourish themselves, before returning to the activity that had left them so famished.

It was no surprise that she’d slept past noon today. They were both exhausted from trying to make up for twenty years in twenty-four hours. She didn’t want this interlude to end. She’d been living in a cocoon of happiness since Friday. She didn’t want to break out and rejoin the world.

Libby took a strand of her hair and used it to tickle Clay’s nose. He brushed at it, grunted, and turned over. Libby grinned. The poor man was exhausted.

“Wake up, sleepyhead,” she whispered as she kissed his shoulder. When he ignored her, she said, “Clay, we have to get up.”

“I wouldn’t be so sleepy if a certain sex maniac hadn’t kept me up all night.”

Libby laughed. “Open your eyes, Clay. It’s morning.” She glanced at the clock and said, “Actually, it’s past noon.”

Clay turned over to face her and pressed his mouth softly to hers. “And that’s important because?”

“I’m hungry,” she admitted.

Clay laughed. “I’m not surprised.”

“And it’s time to go back to the real world.”

“Which reminds me. You never answered my question.”

“What question?”

“Don’t be coy,” Clay said quietly, looking into her eyes. “Will you marry me, Libby?”

Libby opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out. The worst thing was, she had no idea why she was hesitating. Clay seemed ready to commit himself to her. Their lovemaking over the weekend had exceeded even her happiest memories. Why couldn’t she just say yes and move on to the next stage of her life?

“I’d like some time, Clay.”

He laid her flat, then leaned over her, his brow deeply furrowed, his eyes full of concern. “I thought we’d already talked all this out, Libby. I thought you were willing to forgive and forget and move on.”

“I thought I was, too,” Libby said. “You must admit this has all been very sudden, Clay. We’ve waited this long, a few more days shouldn’t matter.”

“How few?” Clay asked.

Libby eased away and sat up. Then, suddenly embarrassed, she pulled the sheet up to cover her nakedness. “As many as it takes.”

“How many is that?” Clay persisted.

“Don’t push me, Clay.”

“I’m not pushing. I’m asking.”

“And I’m telling you I want some more time to think.”

Clay turned his back on her and reached for his briefs.

“What are you doing?” Libby asked.

“I’m giving you time to think.”

“You’re leaving?” Libby asked incredulously. “Right now?”

“I don’t want to get my hopes up that you’re going to marry me if you’re not.”

“I just asked for—”

“I know, you just need time,” Clay interrupted. “So I’m giving it to you. I’ll leave the car for you. You’re welcome to stay here as long as you like. I’m flying back to Austin.”

“What if I want to fly back with you?” Libby said.

“I’d rather you didn’t,” Clay said as he pulled on his jeans and sat down to put on his socks.

“Why not?”

“Because I’m afraid if we’re alone together on that flight I’ll say something I’ll regret,” Clay said, reaching for his shirt and slipping it on.

“You’re angry because you’re not getting what you want, when you want it,” Libby said flatly.

“We Blackthornes are like that,” Clay said as he tucked his shirt in, then zipped and snapped his jeans and buckled his belt.

Libby stared at Clay, who looked completely put together, while she was still sitting naked under a sheet. “I can’t believe you’re running away. Again.”

“I’m not running away,” Clay said. “I’m giving you the space you asked for. Believe me, if you come running in my direction, my arms will be opened wide to catch you.”

Libby wanted to leap into his arms right then, but his abrupt, dismissive behavior seemed to preclude that sort of spontaneity. “I’m afraid if you leave, this interlude will be over.”

“This interlude is over,” Clay said. “But you still have the rest of your life. All you need to do is make up your mind to spend it with me.”

As Libby stared, openmouthed, Clay strode across the sunlit room and out the door.

Kate paced the air-conditioned eight-by-eight-foot concrete space, then pounded on the thick metal door again. She thought she must be in one of the thousands of storage units around Austin that UT students used to store their stuff. This must be one of the better-built, more expensive ones, because no sound was getting past the heavy door. The air-conditioning vent was too small and too high to be an escape route. She’d been left here with plenty of water but no food. Even so, she was more frightened than hungry.

Kate wondered where she was, wondered what day it was. Surely the weekend was past. Surely her parents or Jack or someone would come looking for her and discover she was gone.

Why, oh why, hadn’t she paid attention to Jack’s warnings? She wondered if Donnie was one of Jack’s suspects. She hoped Jack came looking for her and caught the little bastard coming here to retrieve her. She would have settled for rescue from anyone, but she especially wanted to see Jack.

She wondered if he was thinking of her. She wondered if he’d tried to get in touch with her over the weekend after all, and had realized that she’d disappeared. That was wishful thinking. Even if Jack hadn’t been able to reach her, he would have assumed she was with her family. Who assumed she was with Jack.

Kate realized she was totally responsible for the dire situation in which she found herself. She’d arranged it so she would be alone for the entire weekend. No one would be looking for her. Which had given Donnie the opportunity to kidnap her and not be discovered.

She wondered what he planned to do with her. She guessed maybe Donnie might want to exchange her for his own father. Based on what she saw on television, that demand wasn’t going to be met. The police didn’t negotiate with terrorists.

Her parents must be frantic.

At least they would be together.

Kate slumped down to the floor. She needed a plan for escape when Donnie finally showed up. The room was entirely empty except for a plastic jug of water. He’d taken away her shoes and belt, so she didn’t have anything with which to fashion a weapon. The only idea she could come up with was to stand behind the door when he opened it and slam it back into his face.

Kate had no idea how much time had passed, because Donnie had also taken her calendar watch. Which had been a gift from her dad.

Kate sniffled.

She swiped at her nose with her sleeve. She couldn’t afford to fall apart. She couldn’t count on anyone else to help her. She had to help herself.

The sound of a key in the lock brought her scrambling to her feet. She raced for the door, but it opened before she could get behind it. She considered throwing herself at Donnie to knock him off balance, until she saw the very large gun pointed at her stomach, which did a quick somersault.

“Glad to see you decided to come back,” she said, hands on hips. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, Donnie, but—”

“Shut up and turn around.”

“Why should I do anything you say?” Kate retorted. “You haven’t treated me very well, considering—”

“I don’t want to put a bullet in you, Kate, but I will. You have a chance to survive if you cooperate.”

Kate didn’t really believe he intended to let her live. But getting shot right now didn’t sound like the way to go. She turned her back to Donnie, expecting him to tie her hands and lead her out to the car.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked.

“I need you to cooperate, Kate. This will all be over soon.”

She turned her head to look at him over her shoulder, confused by his answer, and smelled the sickening scent of whatever it was he’d used the first time to put her out.

Kate exploded into action, whirling with fists extended to shove Donnie aside and break for the door. She took only one step into the blinding sunlight before the hand not holding the gun arced around her face, and he covered her entire face, eyes, nose, and mouth, with a soaked pad.

“Help!” Kate cried. Her plea was muffled behind his hand. Kate heard a gunshot, close enough that she could smell gunpowder. She waited to feel pain, but there was none. Before she lost consciousness, Kate thought she heard a familiar voice.

“Mom?” she croaked. Then everything went black.

Libby woke early on Monday morning. Alone in her bed at the Four Seasons in Austin. She groaned and turned over. Why did she always have to make everything so difficult? Why couldn’t she just do things the easy way? She couldn’t believe she’d let Clay walk out the door and leave her at his family’s hunting cabin after he’d proposed marriage.

She’d had a lot of time to think yesterday on the long drive back to Austin. She hadn’t wanted to talk to anyone Sunday night. Not Clay. Not Kate. Not North. She’d simply retreated to her room to lick her wounds. And catch up on all the sleep she’d missed over the weekend.

Libby stretched. She wasn’t going to sit around this hotel room moping. She would know the right decision to make about her future when she knew it. Until then, she would work on separating Kate and Jack. Libby would have a heart-to-heart with her daughter and point out the difficulties of marrying someone she hardly knew. It ought to be easy to make her argument for waiting to marry when she pointed out the pitfalls that she and Clay had run into, even though they’d known each other for years.

Libby hunted down her cell phone and called her daughter, hoping she’d be able to reach Kate and make arrangements to get together today. She wasn’t exactly surprised when Kate didn’t answer. Apparently, Kate and Jack had opted for a weekend alone somewhere. Perhaps they hadn’t allowed their idyll to end yet. Libby hoped her daughter was doing better negotiating romantic waters than she’d done herself. She left a message asking Kate to call her back.

Then she called Clay, even though she hadn’t yet made up her mind what to tell him. Luckily, he didn’t answer his phone, either.

“Hello, Clay,” she said when his voice message ended. “You can contact valet parking at the Four Seasons to pick up your car.”

Libby made a final call to her brother North. Even though she expected him to be out working on the ranch, she called the house, because she knew he didn’t carry a cell phone with him. To her surprise, he answered.

“I didn’t expect to reach you,” Libby said.

“Then why did you call?”

“I wanted to talk to you, I just didn’t—Never mind,” she said. “I wondered how you and Jocelyn are getting along.”

“Fine. Are you all right, Libby?”

Libby cleared her throat and said, “Clay asked me to be his wife.”

North hesitated for so long, Libby asked, “Are you still there?”

At last he said, “Are congratulations in order?”

“I told him I needed more time to think,” Libby said.

“I’d think twenty years would be plenty of time to think,” North retorted. “Do you want him, or not, Libby? That shouldn’t be such a difficult question.”

“It’s a big decision. I don’t want to make a mistake.”

“Clay doesn’t strike me as a patient man. When were you planning to give him an answer?”

“When I figure out what answer I want to give,” Libby said with asperity.

“Why did you call me?” North asked.

Libby sighed. She knew better than to ask, but she asked anyway. “What do you think I should do?”

“It’s your life, Libby.”

She’d known he would say as much. North had always been there for her, but he’d never tried to push her in one direction or another.

“Call me if you need me, Libby.”

Which was North’s way of saying the conversation was over. Libby said, “Good-bye, North,” and disconnected the call.

Libby stood a long time in the shower. And remembered the shower she and Clay had taken together at the cabin. By the time she turned off the water, her body was fully aroused. She quickly toweled herself off and got out of the steamy room.

Libby had just finished dressing when someone knocked on the door to her hotel room. It was too early to be the maid. And she hadn’t ordered room service. She hurried to answer the knock, thinking it might be Clay, telling her he’d made a terrible mistake walking out on her yesterday. Then she realized she still had no answer for him. Libby took a deep breath to calm herself, then opened the door.

But it wasn’t Clay.

Libby recognized the boy holding the gun close by his side. He was Bomber Brown’s son. The one Kate had befriended.

Donnie Brown gestured with the gun for Libby to step back into the room. He followed her inside and let the door close quietly behind him, then turned to flip the security lock.

Libby stared at the silver gun barrel pointed right at her heart. “What do you want, Donnie?” she asked, stunned.

“I want you to walk downstairs with me without making a scene or drawing any attention to yourself, ma’am.”

Libby noted the inconsistency between the boy’s courtesy and his menacing voice. He wasn’t tall, and she noticed the large gun seemed heavy in his hand. If she could distract him, she thought she might be able to overpower him and take it away.

“I can see what you’re thinking,” Donnie said. “And that would be a mistake. If you don’t cooperate, your daughter is going to suffer for it.”

Libby’s heart leaped to her throat. “Where is Kate? Is she all right?”

“I have her tucked away safe and sound,” Donnie said. “Just come quietly, and I’ll take you to her.”

Libby started to move toward the door and Donnie said, “Don’t forget your purse.”

Libby picked it up, hoping she’d get a chance to use the cell phone inside.

Then Donnie said, “Leave your cell phone here.”

Libby took it out of her purse and dropped it on the bed. She looked at Donnie and said, “I’ll do whatever you say. Just don’t hurt my daughter.”

“Be quiet, and do exactly as I say. This’ll all be over soon.”

When Kate woke up she was somewhere else, a smaller, darker place. She was tied hand and foot and gagged. She could see a light under the door and she could tell the floor was made of something light and shiny like the marble on the courthouse floors. She was lying on something that was cutting into her back and could feel something heavy on top of her, crushing her stomach. She scooched an inch or so closer to the light under the door, which was all she could manage, and looked down to see what was causing the problem.

Kate’s breath caught in her throat.

She was wearing some sort of vest, and it was covered with blocks of something with wires attached that she was pretty sure were explosives. She carefully lay back down and examined the vest closely, looking to see how she might get it off.

It snapped closed down the front.

Kate tried pulling her legs up to see if she could get her tied hands under her butt and around to the front of her. She quickly realized her legs were tied to something at one side of what she thought might be a janitor’s closet, while a rope had been run through her manacled arms and tied off on the opposite side to keep her centered in the room. Which meant she wasn’t going to be able to attract attention by kicking the door. The gag meant yelling wasn’t an option.

There had to be something she could do. She looked around the dim light in the room. But Donnie had apparently moved everything she could kick over or knock into out of her reach. She looked down to see if there was any kind of clock running down on the vest, telling her how much time she had before she was blown to smithereens. But there was nothing. Which meant Donnie must have some kind of detonator he could use to blow her up at his leisure.

Kate felt herself hyperventilating and held her breath until she could get control of her breathing. She forced herself to put a lid on her imagination, which was working overtime. She could make a pretty good guess where she was. The shiny floors were the tip-off. Where else would Bomber Boy take the daughter of the judge presiding over his father’s trial except to her father’s courthouse?

Donnie probably intended to call in a bomb scare, which would mean evacuating the courthouse. Which might give him a chance to rescue his father.

Kate wondered whether Donnie actually intended to detonate the bomb she was wearing. He only needed the threat to free his father. But Donnie actually might want to reinforce the point his father had made in Houston. The Browns really didn’t like courts, lawyers, or the federal government.