A touch of love (17 page)

Her spirit soared, then spiraled to earth in a glorious freefall. She felt Jesse leave the bed to slip out of his Levi's, but could barely lift her hand to welcome him as he rejoined her on the bed. He slid up over her, caressing the whole length of her body with his hardened cock before pausing to pull on a condom, and spreading her legs with his knee. Aubrey watched him through a pleasure-drugged haze as he balanced himself above her on his elbows. Then he kissed her and began to probe with such shallow thrusts that she wrapped her legs around him to encourage him to plunge deep.

She was slippery wet, but tight, and Jesse was filled with a delicious tension he stoked with each stabbing thrust. He stretched her with a slow, relentless rhythm, burrowing deeper and deeper until finally he filled her completely. He lay still for a moment, his tongue sucking hers into his mouth until her body began to contract around his cock as another orgasm caught her by surprise.

She turned her head to call his name in an ecstatic gasp, and he began to move again. Chasing his own release, he rode the waves of rapture coursing through her until neither of them could stand more. It was only then that he abandoned himself to the joy he had given Aubrey so freely. It seared through him with a blistering heat that left him too weak to leave her arms even after the fiery warmth had faded to a faint afterglow.

At perfect peace, Aubrey wished she had dimmed the lights and lit incense before Jesse had come upstairs to

her room, but even without those romantic touches, their passion for each other had made the night sublime. She ran her fingertips up over Jesse's broad shoulders and down his back, memorizing the feel of him to fuel her dreams after he was gone. She savored every enchanting second, and offered a soft moan of protest when he at last moved aside.

"I don't want to crush you," he called over his shoulder as he went into her bathroom.

"You won't," Aubrey assured him. When he returned to the bed and pulled her back into his arms, she splayed her fingers across his hairy chest, then combed the coarse curls with her nails. His skin was deeply tanned, except for a jagged white scar that crossed his left hipbone. It was too low for her to have noticed it before, and curious, she sent him a questioning glance.

Jesse laughed and shook his head. "You don't want to hear it."

"Does it involve another woman?"

"Absolutely not," he swore. He waited a long moment, but when she continued to regard him with a pointed glance, he reluctantly gave in. "All right, fine, but don't say I didn't warn you. I was seventeen, and had been riding bulls just long enough to get real cocky." He paused then and took hold of her hand. "Why don't you just touch me there. Maybe you'll be able to see what happened for yourself."

Aubrey immediately jerked her hand away. "I'd rather just hear it, thank you."

Jesse hadn't meant to force another experiment on her. "Whatever you like," he said. His glance swept her delectable figure and despite the intensity of the climax they had shared, he already wanted her again. Burgeoning desire was such a terrible distraction that for an instant he couldn't recall why they were talking, let alone about what.

4 'Where was I?" he asked. "Oh, yes. I was riding what was only my eighth or ninth bull, a white Brahma with wicked horns."

Aubrey didn't need to hear any more. "My God. You were gored?"

"Well, let's just say the bull gave it his best shot, but his horn bounced off my hipbone rather than ripping through my intestines, so I walked out of the arena waving to the crowd. I got a real roar of applause. Then I collapsed. The wound wasn't deep, but that didn't make the scar any less nasty. That's why I told you it's not the horns you have to worry about, but the bull's hooves."

Aubrey didn't want to ever touch the scar now, then realized that while they had made love, he had been stretched out over her. Every inch of his magnificent body had been aligned with hers, and pleasure had been the only result. Still, she could not help but wonder if he had a deathwish. "And you kept right on riding bulls?"

Clearly she thought him just plain nuts, but Jesse smiled agreeably. "Not until my side healed I didn't, but when I went to my next rodeo, I was a lot more focused and rode better than ever. In fact, my career really took off then, and I never looked back."

From what she knew of him, she doubted that he ever dwelt on the past, but she hoped he would remember her as fondly as she would recall the time they spent together. "I'm not certain if you're very brave, or merely foolish. At least you didn't take up bullfighting. That's sheer lunacy."

"Yes, indeed." Jesse leaned over to lick Aubrey's breast, and the pale pink nipple tensed into a flavorful bud. "You taste awfully good."

Aubrey was delighted by his compliment, but laid her hand on his shoulder. "Turn the lights down a bit, will you, please?"

Jesse searched her face and willed her to want the same thing he did. "I like being able to look at you."

Aubrey had never been so delightfully uninhibited with a man, but still, she preferred a less brilliant light. "I didn't say I wanted it dark, only dim and seductive/'

"I think I've already been seduced," Jesse countered, but he got up, found the dimmer switch, and muted the overhead lights. * There, is that better?"

Aubrey watched him walk toward the bed. With broad shoulders, narrow hips, and long legs, he had the elegant proportions of a classical statue, but he was very much alive. "You're very handsome," she offered in a contented purr, for indeed he was better looking than most male models, and unfortunately he knew it.

Even in the muted light, Aubrey's luscious curves invited lengthy lovemaking, and Jesse made his intentions plain as soon as he stretched out beside her. He ran his hand down over her hip, then up her inner thigh, before invading the moist heat between her legs. He kissed her lips lightly as he began to trace slippery trails with his fingertips to again lead her into a paradise entirely of their own making.

Aubrey had never slept with such a generous lover, and matched his every kiss and caress with one of her own. Jesse was as responsive to the touch of her fingertips and lips as she was to his, and by the time they finally fell asleep locked in each other's arms, neither could have asked for more. It wasn't until Aubrey awakened near noon, and alone, that what had been so real during the night seemed little more than a splendid illusion.

She savored the memory and fought an overwhelming sense of loss. Jesse had come into her life for a purpose, and she doubted it had anything to do with the tragedy that had befallen the Ferrells. Instead, it might only have been to give her the courage to trust her heart again—

and trust it she did. She would have to thank him for that extraordinary gift and forgive him for causing her pain when he left.

She quickly made up the bed, showered, and then dressed in jeans and an apricot silk shirt. She rummaged through the floor of her closet and found a pair of tan boots to complete the outfit. Projecting the same air of confidence she drew upon for her seminars, she strode into the kitchen and greeted Jesse warmly. Then she yanked open the refrigerator as though having breakfast were the only thing on her mind.

Jesse had been perusing the sports section of the Times, but quickly folded the paper and set it aside. He hadn't known quite what to expect from Aubrey that morning, but he was grateful that she sounded so cheerful. 'T won't ask how you slept because I know, but there is something else I need to say."

Aubrey set the bottle of cranberry juice on the counter and closed the refrigerator with an easy shove. Way ahead of him, she delivered the expected speech before he could. 1 'Please. You needn't tell me how sorry you are you'll soon be going back to Arizona. We both know this isn't going anywhere, but that won't make it any less enjoyable while it lasts." She filled a glass with juice and raised it in a silent toast.

Aubrey Glenn continually amazed Jesse, but he doubted that she could really regard sleeping with him as casually as she had just made it sound. Still, it was a hell of a lot better than being greeted with a tearful demand for his intentions. 'Thank you, but I was about to mention my plan to revisit my cousin's house, rather than give you the, Tt's been fun, but—'speech. You're a whole lot better than just fun, by the way."

Jesse's teasing grin was already imprinted on her heart, and Aubrey smiled easily in return. Some things weren't

meant to last, but that did not mean they weren't precious. He had already had a bowl of cereal, and not really hungry, she grabbed an apple to eat on the way. "We've gotten such a late start, let's get going."

"That's fine with me." Jesse carried his bowl to the dishwasher and dropped it into an empty slot. He wanted to hold Aubrey for a moment, but before he could reach for her, she left the kitchen to get her purse and sunglasses and the moment was lost. He had left her bed because he couldn't think straight with her cuddled against him, but now he thought it might have been a mistake not to wake her and make love again.

He wasn't used to women treating him as though he were no more than a momentary diversion, and while he was too proud to admit it to her, it hurt. Then again, she had told him that she hoped to remarry and have a family, and as a father, he would have damn little to offer a child. He carried that distressing thought outside and looked up at the cloudless sky. Guinevere ran up to the wrought-iron gate. He had fed her and Lucifer that morning, and she recognized him now, and twisted in a welcoming wiggle rather than bark.

Aubrey locked the back door on her way out, but before she and Jesse could climb into his truck, a man and woman appeared at the end of the driveway. The woman was tall and reed thin. A brunette with close-cropped hair, she was dressed in a beige jacket and slacks and carried an oversized canvas handbag. The man looked to be several years her junior. Slightly overweight, his navy blue suit jacket was stretched over his bulging belly, and the effort to keep up with his slender companion as she hurried up the driveway left him gasping for breath.

"Ms. Glenn?" the woman called. "May we have a few minutes of your time?"

"Reporters?" Jesse asked softly.

"I'll handle them," Aubrey assured him. 'Tm sorry, but I don't give unscheduled interviews."

The woman responded with a hoarse laugh and produced a badge. 'Tm Detective Helen Heffley, and this is Detective James Kobin, L.A.P.D., Devonshire Division. How's your time now?"

Jesse took a step forward. "What happened here last night has to be out of your jurisdiction. Is this about the Fen-ells?"

Helen and James exchanged a starded glance. "We've no idea what happened here last night. We've been assigned to the Ferrell case and are merely following up on the story that appeared in Monday's Times, Are you Ms. Glenn's attorney?"

Jesse had left his Stetson in his truck, but dressed in a Western shirt, Levi's, and boots, he sure didn't think he resembled an attorney. "I'm Jesse Barrett," he announced proudly, "and no one has ever mistaken me for a lawyer."

Helen swept him with a bored glance. "You'd be surprised at the people who pass the bar exam. Now let's cut the chitchat and get on with it. Could we go inside?"

After the way Aubrey's privacy had been invaded last night, she didn't feel up to inviting them into her home. "It's a pleasant day, let's just use the patio." She opened the gate and hushed Guinevere, who had begun to bark the instant the detectives came into view.

Once they were all seated at the round glass table, Aubrey waited for Kobin to mop his forehead with his handkerchief, then chose her words with deliberate care. "Jesse is Pete Ferrell's cousin. He mistakenly believed I possessed some talent as a psychic, but I don't. We went out to the Ferrells' home, but I didn't see it all."

"Did you?" Helen asked Jesse.

"Yes, but my aunt gave me the key, so it was perfectly

legal. There's no yellow tape strung around the house, nor notice on the door that it's a crime scene."

Helen glanced toward her partner and rolled her eyes. "Do I detect a bit of hostility here, Mr. Barrett?"

Jesse laughed. "You're the detective, you tell me. You've had more than two years to find out what happened to my cousin and his family, and failed to make a single arrest. Meanwhile, Harlan Caine has probably kept right on attracting unsuspecting investors for projects he'll never build." He offered a brief summary of the pool incident, then glanced toward Aubrey.

"I didn't intend to use Ms. Glenn as bait to trap Caine, but I suppose even that would be better than what we've seen from the police."

Helen brisded at Jesse's sarcasm. "There's a vast difference between having a suspect, and granted, Harlan Caine is one, and proving his guilt. Frankly, there are a few psychics who've actually solved crimes, but that's been an extremely rare occurrence, so we didn't really expect any concrete leads from Ms. Glenn. However, we do want to caution you both about any further involvement in the case. Last night certainly sounds like an attempt on your lives, and you mustn't push your luck any further. Stop whatever amateur sleuthing you've been doing and leave crime solving to the professionals."

Jesse leaned forward. "At the rate you're progressing, you'll retire before you discover what happened to my cousin's family—so don't ask, nor expect, me to butt out." He rose and stretched to his full height. "Did you have any other questions, Detective?" Jesse slurred the tide into an insult.

Helen rose and handed Aubrey her card. "Here's my number should you need help reining in Wild Bill." She

summoned her taciturn partner with a quick nod and strode out of the patio with him again tagging along behind her.

Aubrey tapped the card on the table. "Interesting pair. Do you suppose Kobin ever has anything to say?"

"Would she allow it if he did?"

"I certainly hope so." Aubrey picked up her purse as she left her chair. "I've no intention of attempting to rein you in, by the way. Caine made a very bad mistake last night, and I think he ought to pay for it."