Treasure Me (28 page)

Placing his laptop on the nightstand, he pinioned her with sober regard. “What are you doing?” he asked, his voice so unexpectedly gentle it wicked the anger from her blood. He rolled on top of her. “You’ll never be able to sleep here. You won’t be able to keep your hands off me.”

“I have more self-control than you think.”
His
hands were already fast at work, teasing fire down her neck, whispering feather light caresses across her jawbone. “You should get some sleep, too.”

“I have work to do.”

“So you have to find a new job. Work on your resume later.”

The comment stamped regret on his features. She couldn’t stop to analyze it, not with his fingers making a fiery excursion across the tender skin beneath her ear. Lowering his head, he brushed his lips across her temple. Her heart tumbled.

“You have to do something for me,” he murmured, nipping her ear. He eased himself fully on top of her; sinew and bone, and she trembled. “No arguments.”

The sincerity in his voice loosened her defenses. “What do you want?”

“Stop searching for the rubies.” He lifted his head to petition her with a look fraught with entreaty. “Stop looking, stop running. Move away… move to Akron.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Live with me. Give our relationship a test run.”

The suggestion was stunning. Flabbergasted, she tried to marshal her objections. No easy feat with his hands skimming her shoulders and his breathing becoming choppy. The signs of his arousal kicked up her own need and she shifted pleasurably beneath him.

“We’d never make it work,” she said, unable to come up with anything better.

She certainly couldn’t share the more painful reservation—Ohio was proving to be one of the states her mother had conned her way through. Wish oozed her way through Liberty sometime during Birdie’s childhood. Landon Williams was one of her marks. What if Wish had also done some of her more destructive work in the city of Akron, where Hugh lived?

Better to leave Ohio, and quickly. Find a state Wish had never worked in. Even the friendships Birdie had made here wouldn’t amount to much if people learned she was the child of a notorious swindler.

“We have as good a shot at a relationship as anyone else,” Hugh said.

“We argue all the time. We’d screw it up.”

“How can you be sure?”

“We aren’t built for relationships,” she said, hating the truth. “I leave the minute I get bored. You’re just as shallow. You’ve probably gone through dozens of women.”

“I’m not willing to give you up.” He dipped his mouth to hers. He smelled of Scotch and something else, something earthy and good and she ached for his kiss. “You’re scared because you’ve lived too much of your life on the surface. You can change.”

“But not overnight.” She tried to slide out from beneath him, caught between pleasure and the pain of self-doubt. “You’re asking too much.”

“This time is different. Different from the world you came from.”

A niggling unease seeped through the desire pulling her under. “You don’t know anything about my world.”

“I know about your mother. Your father, in prison. You’re better than them. You deserve a fresh start. We both do.”

“
How
do you know about my parents?” Oh, God—a reporter could find out anything. Tanek’s record of arrests. The humiliating backlog of crimes Wish never paid for. “Damn it, Hugh—have you been doing research on me? You wouldn’t dare.”

“I have, yes.”

“If there’s something you wanted to know, you could’ve asked.”

“You would’ve lied.”

“It’s not easy talking about my life.” Too painful really. “What did you find out?”

“A lot about your childhood, how your mother dragged you around. How she used you in her cons, usually whenever your father was incarcerated. How she mistreated you.”

“Not always,” she replied, suddenly defensive of the woman who was coldhearted and cunning but her mother nonetheless. “Sometimes she was okay.”

Hugh dipped his nose to hers and slowly rubbed, an Eskimo kiss potent with yearning and something sweet enough to grab hold of her senses. “When did you last see her?”

“We almost ran into each other here in Ohio.” Wish sent the newspaper clipping of his article along with a short note. “I was hoping we’d hook up in Columbus.”

“How long, Birdie?”

His persistence started her lips quivering. “A while, all right?” she replied, wishing he’d drop the interrogation. Her mother was a sore spot in her life, a perpetual torment.

“Tell me,” he urged, cradling her face.

The hurt she’d bottled up tore through her. “It’s been four years, all right?” Handling the overload of pain was unbearable. “Stay out of my business.”

“I can’t. I care about you.”

She struggled to break free and he clamped onto her shoulders. Furious, she met his unwavering gaze. He was stronger than she’d realized, a lot stronger, and the determination tensing his jaw was frightening.

“Get off!”

“Like hell I will.” He looked wolfish, enraged. “I didn’t invite you into my bed. But you’re here and I’m making love to you. I’m not settling for a fling, or a weekend romance. I need more. Give it to me.”

“Hugh, I don’t know how to make this—”

“You’ll try,” he said, cutting her off. “We both need redemption.”

Could they find it together? Hope whispered across her heart. And something else, a sweet heaviness, as their gazes tangled.

A dart of pain skimmed his beautifully carved mouth. “I’m falling in love with you,” he said. “It sure as hell isn’t convenient, but I am.”

He captured her lips in a hard kiss, as if to demonstrate the potency of his love. She strained against him, angry and frustrated, returning his ardor with matching heat. No, love wasn’t convenient. Love was messy, unpredictable, and she liked to keep her life simple.

Could she trust in his love? Lowering the walls she’d built around her heart was a terrifying prospect. She’d never before tied herself to a place—or a man.

None of her reservations stopped her from shimmying his pajamas down his thighs, increasing the fury of his kiss, his tongue darting and tempting, driving her higher until his lovemaking vanquished all of her doubts. Suspended in joy, with the past too murky to grieve and the future too blinding to fear, she let him tease her ever higher. They made love until the sunlight blazed across the floor of the bedroom, a frenzied coupling followed by a leisurely exploration. Replete, Birdie rested her cheek against the shuddering wall of his chest. Hugh sifted the lengths of her hair through his fingertips, examining the locks with boyish curiosity as the morning light burned bright in every strand.

* * *

Theodora bristled when the interloper walked into The Second Chance.

According to Miss Betty, the mailwoman, he’d been sneaking around town all day, starting at the library after Hugh drove off. Then the well-dressed loafer went into the courthouse. Revving her Cadillac in the no parking zone, Theodora sat fuming when he came out scribbling so furiously in a notebook he nearly marched into a tree.

What was another reporter doing in Liberty? This was Hugh’s turf. He wasn’t the sort of man who shared his domain.

Next the stranger visited the police station. Anxiety pinged through her as she put two and two together. She considered going in after he strolled off, to ask Officer Tim what the fool wanted, but she had a hankering for Finney’s lunch special.

Now he was darkening the door of the Second Chance and ruining her taste for her pastrami and rye.

She had a bad feeling about him. He was tall, too handsome, even if he did have a purpling bruise on his chin. And the look in his eyes, why, most folks would read that look as idiocy but she knew it hid cunning. Delia and Birdie had left right after the lunch rush—something about preparations for fixing the mess Delia called her hair. Ethel Lynn was manning the nearly empty dining room.

“Good afternoon, ladies.” He sat down on the barstool next to Theodora and picked up a menu. “What’s the lunch special?”

“The food here’s crap,” she said, drawing a gasp from Ethel Lynn.

“Oh. Okay. How ‘bout a cup of coffee?” Fumbling with his necktie, he regarded Ethel Lynn. “Miss . . ?” Wary, he turned around and glanced at Theodora. “I’m looking for a drifter. I understand she works here.”

Theodora grunted. “This fine establishment doesn’t employ drifters.”

“She’s about thirty years old, new in town.”

“Never heard of her.”

The man frowned. “I haven’t given her name. How do you know if you’ve heard of her?”

Approaching on a flutter, Ethel Lynn banged into the coffee station. “Do you mean Birdie?”

Theodora lobbed a venomous warning look. Ethel Lynn was as dumb as a doorpost! There was something oily and self-serving about the man. Couldn’t she see he was a threat?

“Yeah. Birdie Kaminsky,” the man replied. “I’d like to talk to her. Is she around?”

Ethel Lynn hurried forward to pass more secrets across enemy lines. Staring her into silence, Theodora said, “Birdie’s moved on. Last I heard she’s in Miami.” To accent her words, she withdrew her pistol and cocked the hammer. Aiming for his nose, she added, “Now, why don’t you skedaddle before I send you a sight farther than Florida?”

* * *

Uneasy, Hugh started across the parking lot when Birdie came out of the drugstore with Delia.

She looked happy. The nice blush on her cheeks was no doubt put there by the hours he’d spent with her in the sack this morning. Afterward there had been ample time to confess he was writing an article about her hunt for the rubies. Instead he took the easy way out, steering the conversation to safe topics. Birdie was considering his offer to move to Akron, he was sure, and she stayed in bed with him most of the morning. When she’d left for work, he’d chastised himself for not telling her the truth.

With misgiving, he organized his thoughts. She’d be furious once she learned the truth.

Looking up, she noticed him and beamed.

He shoved his hands deep into his pockets. “Can we talk?”

“I have to get back to the restaurant,” she said, smoothing her palms across the front of his jacket.

Torn between affection and regret, he steered her toward the sidewalk. “This can’t wait.” He glanced at Delia, who took the hint and started for her car. “I’m writing an article.”

Mention of an article was enough to bring her naturally guarded nature to the fore. She withdrew from his embrace, a terrible loss, but he knew enough to give her space.

Only a coward prevaricated, so he launched in. “I told the City Editor I found another story in Liberty.” To stop her from bolting he gently clasped her wrist. “I’m writing about your treasure hunt for the rubies.”

The admission didn’t register immediately. She stared at him blankly, her luscious mouth falling open. When her lower lip trembled, guilt seared him to the bone. He cared about her. Hell, he loved her, more than he should. More than was sensible, given her career choice. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her.

“I told you about the rubies in confidence,” she said, rising from her stupor. “I trusted you. Why did you tell your editor?”

“I have to protect you. Writing about the rubies is the only way to keep you safe.”

“How does betraying my trust protect me? You have no right—”

“I used a PI to look into your background,” he cut in. “Fatman Berelli.”

“What?”

“He’s not loyal.” Hugh soldiered on, refusing to consider the depths of his betrayal. “I shouldn’t have asked Fatman to look into your life. I’d just moved into the apartment with you and I thought… hell, I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m sorry.”

“You’re
sorry?
”

“If I lose my job at the
Register
, Fatman will become one of Ralston’s sources. There’s no telling what’ll come up in conversation.”

“They’ll talk about me? Oh, God.”

“And your parents. Fatman put together a whole file on Wish and Tanek… and you. If I’m gone, something might come out.”

Fear tripped through her violet gaze, gutting him. “How can you do this to me?”

“I was only trying to—”

He stopped, despising himself, despising the trade he’d made with Bud. He’d write the story about the rubies to safeguard his job while he secretly grappled for a way to keep Birdie in Ohio. If she didn’t steal the rubies, there was no reason to leave. He raked his hand through his hair. Except now, she’d go for sure. She had every right to despise him.

“I was in a corner,” he said as her contempt hit him in a rush. “Ralston got his hands on Fatman’s number. I had to think on my feet.”

“You weren’t thinking at all!”

Was there any sense in arguing? “Now I’m not sure what to do.” He reached for her hand but she slapped him away. “Please, Birdie. Try to forgive me. We can decide what to do together.”

Tears brimmed in her eyes. “Why do you care what I think?”

“I love you. Can’t you understand? I love you, Birdie, and I don’t ever want to stop.”

The words dropped out before he checked them. Too much, too fast, especially since he’d already broached the subject this morning. Wide-eyed, she stared at him with her chest heaving. The wind scattered her hair, and a tendril of gilt clung to her lips. Gently, he hooked the lock of hair behind her ear. He cupped her cheek, relieved when she didn’t push him away. Did she love him too? Her silence sure wasn’t filling him with confidence.

“I’ll do whatever you ask,” he said, too hurt to get a fix on why he was also angry. “It’s your call.”

“I don’t have much choice, do I? Give up the rubies or my privacy.” She glanced quickly at Delia, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel of her Mustang. “You can’t let Ralston write about me. If anyone in Liberty found out about my life… ”

“Can you give up the rubies?”

The question drove sadness into her gaze. “I’ve dreamt about them my whole life. Maybe they don’t belong to me, but… Hugh, I think Justice tried to return the rubies to Molly. To my side of the family—why else would she leave the clues?
Liberty safeguards the cherished heart
. She left them for Molly… and, in a way, for me. We meant something to her.”