What was wrong with her that she could get so turned on when he treated her like a piece of meat? Like a blow-up doll, nothing more than a warm place to stick his dick?
Okay, that wasn’t totally true, she was forced to admit as he slid one hand around and cupped her sex, stroking her clit in time to his slow, deliberate thrusts. He took everything he’d learned about her body, what she liked, and used it, swiveling his hips at the end of each thrust so he bumped the bundle of nerves deep inside her. Whipping her up into a frenzy until she was nothing but a puddle of helpless need, slamming her hips against him, moaning as she braced herself against the couch so she could get more leverage as she rode his thick shaft.
Keening sounds emerged from her throat as she strained for orgasm, growing louder and louder as Derek stroked her clit. Finally she broke, release thundering through her, stars exploding behind her closed eyes. He held himself deep inside her, rocking his hips into her until the last pulse fluttered through her.
He whispered her name and kissed her shoulder. Then he gripped her hips and rode to his own orgasm, pounding into her in bone-jarring thrusts that left her feeling more than a
little battered. He came with a curse, almost as though he was angry. At her for making him come so hard. At himself for giving into the attraction he obviously hated to feel.
Stupid. So stupid. Thinking he would respond to her clumsy attempts to get him to open up. Now she was the one exposed. Ripped open, all of her parts scattered for the entire world to see.
Alyssa hadn’t been conscious of the chance she was taking with Derek until it was too late. Hadn’t even realized what she’d wanted from him until she was in too deep to stop herself. She didn’t want to admit it to herself, but now she couldn’t deny the feeble hope she’d fostered that Derek would see her, the real her, and find someone worth knowing, beyond the sex. Someone worth sharing himself with.
Someone she could trust with herself.
But now as she lay under him, her skin going cold as his heart pounded against her back, she was reminded of the lesson a smarter girl would have learned by now. A girl in Alyssa Miles’s position couldn’t trust anyone.
This time Derek wasn’t the one to pull away and duck for cover. As soon as her breathing slowed down Alyssa scrambled from underneath him. She clutched her towel to her like a shield as she streaked down the hall. Seconds later he heard a door slam and the shower running.
The look in her eyes was like a spear in his chest. He rose from his knees and sank down onto the couch. He felt wasted, weak, and about a hundred years old. He bent his head to his hands and caught sight of his penis. Still half hard, sheathed in the condom.
His lips pulled back in distaste. The offender, the enemy. This whole fucked-up fiasco was the damn thing’s fault. He laughed humorlessly. Okay, he couldn’t really blame his dick, but he wanted someone—something—else to take the fall for what had just happened.
What the fuck was wrong with him? Taking her like that. He hadn’t hurt her, not physically anyway. Then he remembered the faint finger marks he’d left on her hips and felt a little sick.
She’d called him a Neanderthal. He wasn’t even sure he’d evolved to caveman status. Sure, he made sure she got off, and hard, but he’d made her feel like shit about it. Bile rose in the back of his throat as he thought of the things he’d said, the way he’d used her body’s response against her, all so she’d understand he’d never be open to anything more than no-strings sex.
The look on her face, her eyes big green pools of devastation, flashed in his brain. Mission accomplished. His hand clenched into a fist, and he wanted to punch a wall. And her skin, always so warm, glowing with heat against his, had gone cold. Like her body had shut down, her temperature dropping a good five degrees after the sexual haze had lifted and reality set in.
He heard the shower turn off, and his chest went tight with the need to escape. He didn’t know what the hell to say to her. The effect she had on him was like nothing he’d ever dealt with before, and for the first time in his life he couldn’t put his finger on the most rational, civilized way to deal with the situation.
Grab your car keys and run.
Yeah, he couldn’t do that either, since he was on Van Weldt’s clock and supposed to be looking out for her. Taking a man’s money to fuck his niece and make her feel like shit about it.
Nice.
Derek pulled a towel around himself as guilt settled in his gut, mingling with the self-disgust until he felt like he’d swallowed a cannon ball. He waited until he heard the bathroom door open and the bedroom door close before he went down the hall to the bathroom. The small room was
thick with fog and the scent of Alyssa’s shampoo. The fresh, fruity scent curled around his insides and made him want to burst into her room and…what? Beg her forgiveness? Tell her he was sorry, but he wanted her more than any other woman he’d ever met, and his puny little brain didn’t know how to process it?
He shoved the urge away. No way was he opening that can of worms. No way was he going to compound stupid with stupid.
He stood under the scalding hot spray, hot enough to melt off the top layer of skin, trying to get the feel and scent of her off of him. He got dressed in the bedroom, and when he emerged several minutes later, Alyssa was waiting in the living room.
She was dressed in the same sweater and cargo pants she’d worn the day before, her damp hair pulled back in a messy braid. A black backpack rested near her feet.
“You can call my uncle now.” Her voice was tired and lifeless.
“I promised you until tomorrow,” Derek replied, wondering why he was arguing.
She looked at him then, her green eyes wide and steady as they stared into his. Gone were the curiosity, the expectation, the anticipation that he hadn’t even realized were there until they were gone. “Like you said, I can’t play make-believe forever. I have to face reality eventually, so I might as well get it over with.”
Her small shoulders set in a tight line under her sweater as she grabbed her backpack handle and slung it over her shoulder. He opened his mouth to protest and then stopped himself. Another day alone with her would be a complete and utter cluster fuck. He’d already shown himself to be capable of anything when it came to her. He already felt torn up inside. He didn’t want to stick around to see how much worse he could make it.
“One thing, though. Please don’t tell anyone exactly where we are. I know I can never really hide, but I need to know this place will stay secret.” Alyssa’s look was urgent, pleading.
“Of course,” he said.
Her lips pulled into a small smile. He tried not to notice that they were still red and puffy from kissing. “And I trust you not to tell anyone what went on here.”
She shouldn’t trust him as far as she could throw him, not after what he’d done. But she could trust him in this. No way in hell was anyone ever going to know that he’d completely lost his mind over Alyssa Miles.
Derek flicked open his cell phone and walked down the hall to pack his overnight bag. Van Weldt answered on the first ring.
“Ah, you finally deign to call me. I trust you have news.”
Derek felt his hackles raise at the man’s clipped, condescending voice, but kept his tone smooth and professional. “Yes, sir. I apologize for not returning your calls yesterday, but I wanted to be sure I had information before I bothered you.”
“Returning my calls would hardly have been a bother. Your evasiveness borders on unprofessionalism.”
Derek had a sudden vision of himself kneeling on the floor as he took Alyssa from behind. Unprofessional. The guy had no idea. “You’ll be happy to know I found her, sir. We’ll be back in the city in a few hours.”
“Good. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you, but don’t let any photographers or members of the press see you. I can only imagine the shape she’s in.”
“She’s perfectly fine, sir,” Derek said, unable to keep the edge from his voice as he sprang to her defense. “All she wanted was a break from the scrutiny for a few days.”
“Scrutiny is her reality, Mr. Taggart, and given recent events, the reality of our family. Alyssa will learn to deal with it properly, or she will face the consequences.”
The connection broke, and Derek glared at his phone. His thumb hovered over the redial button as he struggled with the urge to call Van Weldt back and tell him to go fuck himself, that he was taking Alyssa and keeping her away from the prying eyes of press and family that would drive any sane person to numb herself out with drugs.
He flipped his phone closed and slipped it into his pocket. Alyssa, her crazy life, and her possible drug habit weren’t his problem. Doing his job and getting Gemini’s reputation back on track was.
But as he watched Alyssa climb into the passenger seat of his Audi like she was a prisoner being shipped off to death row, he remembered the real fear in her eyes as she’d tried to convince him someone was slipping her the drugs. Was he an idiot for wanting to believe her when the most logical explanation stared him in the face? Dread settled in as he realized he couldn’t brush her off so easily. He had to stay close, even if it meant his own doom.
A
LYSSA STARED OUT the window of the Audi as coastal cliffs and fog gave way to the mist-enshrouded forests that lined highway 128. When Derek had suggested—okay, insisted—that she ride home with him and leave her car for one of the other Gemini guys to retrieve, she hadn’t argued. Wasted and wrung out, she hadn’t been able to summon the energy.
Now she wished she’d tried a little harder. Only fifteen minutes into the two-and-a-half-hour journey, and she wanted to climb the walls. He filled the car with his size and presence. The heat and tension pulsed off him in palpable waves. The scent of him—fresh soap, cedar, and musk—permeated the interior.
And after everything that had happened, she still had to fight to keep from leaning over the gearshift and burying her face in his neck and taking a long, deep inhale of warm skin. After the way he’d made her feel—cheap, stupid, used—she still wanted to curl up against him and trust him to keep her safe. Some sick, twisted part of her couldn’t stop wanting him, couldn’t stop wishing he would pull her close and protect her from a world she was starting to think was out to get her.
She shoved away the irrational yearnings and paranoid
delusions and shifted as far from Derek as the car would allow. Head pressed against the glass of the passenger window, she listened while Derek called his brother to let him know they were on their way back to the city.
“She decided she wanted to get back sooner.”
Alyssa almost laughed at the simplistic explanation. She’d decided, all right. After Derek had turned her inside out and shown how little regard he had for her or anything happening between them.
The rest of his side of the conversation consisted of terse responses before he hung up.
“They couldn’t find any information about the anonymous calls you’ve been receiving, but Toni’s going to dig a little deeper.”
Alyssa nodded. Great. She’d have to change her number yet again.
Derek didn’t say anything else as he cranked up the stereo. The harsh, angst-ridden sound of Nine Inch Nails thundered through the car. It settled in Alyssa’s shoulders and spread to the back of her neck until her head was pounding. She closed her eyes, embraced the pain as it distracted her from the overwhelming presence of the man beside her and her irrational, futile, masochistic attraction to him.
By the time they got to her place she was physically and mentally drained. There were a handful of photographers loitering out front, so Derek took her up through the side entrance.
“You don’t need to come up,” Alyssa said. “In fact, you probably don’t need to come around at all, since I’ll be, like, under house arrest for a while.” She tried to laugh, but the sound came out all weird and rusty. God, she didn’t want to deal with her uncle, didn’t want to worry about how she was going to deal with her mother’s expenses in the coming months.
Derek didn’t respond, waiting silently as she unlocked the
door. His phone rang as the door swung open, and he scowled at whomever the caller was. “We just got into the city,” he said, each syllable snapping with irritation. “I’ll be at the office in—”
His voice cut short, and Alyssa froze, one foot over the threshold as his face went white.
“No shit,” he said, his stomach dropping to the soles of his feet. “They really think it could be her?”
“I don’t know,” Ethan’s voice was tight. “There were two bodies, and from what they can tell so far, it’s possible one of them could be her.”
“But how—”
Ethan cut him off. “Look, just get to Dad’s house. De Luca is here, and he can tell us everything he knows.”
The line went dead. Derek spent several seconds staring at it like it was an alien life-form.
“Derek?” Alyssa’s hand curled around his forearm. “What’s wrong?”
He struggled to focus on her face, her eyes dark with concern. “There was a landslide outside of La Honda last week. It uncovered two bodies that had been buried up there. The heavy rains over the past month had washed away a chunk of the hillside, in an open space preserve, taking a vacant cabin with it.
Understanding dawned across her face, and her skin went even paler. “Is one of them your mother?”
“We don’t know yet.” He struggled to keep his tone steady, keep himself from blowing into a million pieces. “But that’s where she was last seen, where we found her car.”
Her grip on his arm tightened. “It could be a coincidence.”
“Or it could be her.” He’d considered the possibility she was dead a thousand times in the past eighteen years. Yet that didn’t ease the punched-in-the-stomach feeling.
“Derek, I’m so sorry.” Her eyes damp, she reached her
hand up and cupped his face. He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch, letting her warmth and concern flow into his skin. She stood up on tiptoe and kissed him, and shameless, selfish, undeserving bastard that he was, he took it. Held her to him and kissed her hard, sucking in every drop of warmth she offered in an effort to stave off the cold taking root in his gut.
He wanted to stay there, follow her up to her bedroom, bury himself in her heat until he forgot the last twenty-four hours. But he was a realist, and he knew that wasn’t an option.
He took a last, lingering taste and buried his face in her hair. “God, you are so sweet,” he whispered and pulled away before it was too late. “I have to go. I’ll get in touch with your uncle.”
She nodded and swiped away a tear with her thumb. She was crying for him—the realization hit him like a knife in the chest. She looked small and alone, watching him go. “I’ll have someone cover for me, okay? In the meantime, you be careful. Anything weird happens, you call me.”
As he flew down highway 280 on the way to his father’s house, he couldn’t get the image of Alyssa’s wide green eyes out of his head.
Derek, I’m so sorry.
The warmth of her hand against his cheek. Pouring all her heartfelt sympathy into a kiss that had filled him with heat and light even as it had scraped him raw with guilt.
After the way he’d treated her, gone out of his way to cheapen what they had, made it clear to her he was using her only for sex, she had still opened up her soft heart and tried to comfort him.
That he wanted her so much—and not just for sex—should have been enough to make him glad for an excuse to get away from her.
About fifteen minutes after Derek had left Alyssa’s, Danny
had called to tell him Harold Van Weldt had canceled his contract with Gemini Securities.
Seemed he was concerned about Derek’s unprofessional behavior and questioned his priorities when it came to keeping Alyssa in line and out of the public eye.
With everything else going on, Danny hadn’t given him the ass chewing he so richly deserved, but Derek didn’t kid himself that it wasn’t coming.
But even knowing he’d fucked up big-time, knowing he’d let down his brothers, his company, himself, for Christ’s sake, he didn’t feel one speck of the relief he knew he should.
All he could think about was that Alyssa was alone, unprotected, and she was convinced someone was out to get her.
He pushed his worry aside. Harold would keep her close to home, probably hire another security firm to keep an eye on her. As long as she was careful, she should be okay. But as he thought of her strained, pale face, her eyes tormented, begging him to believe her, he couldn’t get past the gut feeling that when he’d left her that afternoon he’d thrown her to the lions.
He arrived at his father’s house in only thirty-five minutes instead of the usual fifty it took from San Francisco. Ethan and Danny were already there, along with their father who sat stone cold and silent on the worn sofa in the study.
“What do we know?” Derek asked. That’s all he wanted. Just the facts. He couldn’t start thinking about the ramifications yet. What it would really mean if the body was that of Anne Taggart. What would happen to all of them—especially their father—if they finally had a body and could stop chasing after her ghost.
“We don’t know much more than I told you on the phone,” Ethan said. “Two bodies were found near La Honda. Initial analysis of the remains showed one of them could be the right age, height, all that stuff. Hank called Dad.”
Hank de Luca was a friend of their father’s from the San Mateo County Sheriff’s Office. He’d been involved in the initial investigation of Anne Taggart’s mysterious disappearance eighteen years before. Though the case had been left cold more than a decade ago, Hank had continued to work with Joe Taggart in an unofficial capacity, helping Joe out however he could with his ongoing quest to find out what had happened after his wife walked out the door that long-ago morning in May.
Danny regarded Derek with cool gray eyes as he handed over a copy of the coroner’s report. Danny’s mouth was tight, his jaw hard, and not only from the news of the body.
“That’s all the information we have so far,” Ethan said. “The bodies are badly decomposed. There’s no way to identify her.” Derek scanned the report.
Just the bare facts. A pitiful handful of words to describe a life. A life that might have been his mother’s. His throat went tight, and he thrust the thought away. No reason to get emotional about it before they even knew anything. “How long before we know if it’s her?”
Derek saw his father’s shoulders stiffen and instantly regretted his harsh tone.
“At least a few weeks,” Danny replied, his voice uncharacteristically soft as he regarded their father. “In her,” he paused, keeping a careful eye on his father’s face, “condition, we’re looking at dental records and DNA matching.”
All requiring lab tests that would take several weeks if not months.
Danny reached across the couch and gripped his father’s shoulder. “Come on, Dad, let’s go get a cup of coffee.”
Joe nodded wordlessly and rose from the couch, looking past his sons as if he didn’t really see them. Derek’s stomach clenched at how old his father suddenly looked. His shoulders were still broad, his tall body still strong, but he’d lost the ramrod-stiff posture, the air of unquestionable author
ity he’d developed over a decade in the military and successful career in finance. Now he looked weary, his face carved in deep lines.
“I really hope that’s not Mom,” Derek said to Ethan as his father and Danny disappeared down the hall.
“As fucked up as it is,” Ethan said with a humorless laugh, “I kind of hope it is. At least we’ll know.”
Derek nodded. “I hear you. But I’m afraid it might kill him,” he said, nodding in the direction of the kitchen. He sank into a leather club chair and leaned his head into his hands. “What a fucking week.”
He raised his head and was pinned by Ethan’s piercing, laser-blue stare. Derek forced himself not to squirm as he met his brother’s gaze head-on. As much as he appreciated his close relationship with his brothers, especially his twin, sometimes he hated the way Ethan was able to dig inside his head whether he wanted him to or not. Of course, Derek did the same to Ethan, so he supposed that made them even.
“What?” he said, filling his mind with images of lead curtains, brick walls, anything to mentally block Ethan out and keep him from asking questions Derek couldn’t begin to answer.
“Was it worth it?” Ethan said, his eyes narrowing as his mouth pulled into a knowing smirk.
“Was what worth it?” Derek raised his eyebrows, striving for deadpan.
“Come on, Derek, don’t play dumb. We all know you didn’t spend the last twenty-four hours building sand castles and looking for seashells.”
Derek remained silent. He and his brothers were close, but he’d spent the last thirty-two years sparring with them verbally and physically. The best strategy was not to engage.
“Toni’s always leaving those celebrity rags laying around. Alyssa has an interesting past.”
Try as he might to fight it, Derek couldn’t stop the instinctive narrowing of his eyes, the clenching of his fists.
Ethan knew he’d hit pay dirt and didn’t miss a beat. “According to that guy who took those awesome pictures of her, she was the worst lay in Hollywood.” Ethan shook his head and made a chiding sound. “Hardly worth losing an important client over.”
Derek’s blood boiled in his brain, his vision clouding until his vision was filled with a red haze. Every muscle and sinew in his body tightened, his fists clenched, prepared to pop his brother square in his smug, smirking face.
He closed his eyes, blocked out Ethan’s shit-eating grin, took a deep breath, and pulled himself back from the edge.
Barely.
“I’m not going to talk about her,” Derek bit out. “But I don’t want you saying shit about her. She’s a nice girl.” God, what a weak-assed description for one of the sexiest, big hearted, sweetest women he’d ever met. But no way was he going there, not even with his brother.
“So you’re saying she’s not a drug-addicted mess with well-documented shitty taste in men?”
Unbidden, the memory of Alyssa, her eyes bright with unshed tears as she’d scrambled to get out from underneath him, stabbed into his brain, and shame bubbled through his veins like acid. “The shitty taste in men is right.” Derek was no better than the rest, another in a line of men who used her and hurt her.
As to the other…he still wasn’t sure. Which was fucked because he had the facts, the data in black and white. Lab results didn’t lie, and with her lifestyle, there was no reason to believe her wild claims. Still, his gut told him different.
Yeah, and last time you listened to your gut when it came to a woman, twelve people were blown into hamburger.
“I’m not saying she doesn’t have problems,” Derek said
finally. “But as of today, they’re not my problems to deal with.”
And considering the uncontrollable emotions Alyssa brought out of him, they were both a hell of a lot better off because of it.
After Derek left, the rest of the afternoon and the next day passed in a blur. Her uncle called to chew her out and inform her he’d fired Derek. She swallowed around a lump of guilt, only half listening as Harold told her that under no circumstances was she to speak to the press.
Physically and emotionally exhausted, Alyssa planted herself on the couch and watched Andy busy herself around the apartment. She was grateful for her assistant’s quiet, competent presence as she kept the apartment from becoming oppressively, depressingly empty.