The Fire Within (17 page)

One brow quirking upward, she said, “Dante.”

He sighed and reached between their bodies, circling her clit and causing her to arch up with a hiss, impaling herself back onto his cock. “Say my name.”

“Damn it, Dante, stop fucking around!” She wrapped her legs around him and tightened them, pulling him back into her body. She was starting to get pissed off.

“Elizabeth.”

She stopped moving, suddenly realizing what he wanted.

He dropped off his arms, bringing them skin to skin from head to toe. Against her lips he whispered, “Say my
name
.”

She licked her lips and swallowed as he began slowly moving within her again. “Dante.” His name was a moan, a cry, a sobbing breath that left her needing him even more.

It was as if she’d flipped a switch within him. He reared above her and began pounding in and out of her body, a desperate expression almost overshadowing the powerful need she saw in his face. “Again.”

“Dante,” she breathed. He sucked one of her nipples into his mouth.

“Again,” he muttered, biting down slightly and stroking away the sting with his tongue.

“Oh. Oh,
Dante!
” She shrieked, coming harder than she’d ever come before, blinding white-hot pleasure that left her wrung out and gasping for breath. He cried out, his heat pouring into her, setting her aflame, warming her with his inner fire until she didn’t know where he left off and she began.

When it was over he collapsed on top of her, taking her mouth with a tenderness that left her shaking. Her name was a breathless sigh on his lips before he rolled off her, tugging her close. He cradled her to him, stroking his hand through her hair, both of them shaking in the aftermath and drenched in sweat.

She didn’t need marks on her neck to know the truth.

She was his.

Chapter Fourteen

Beth woke up the next morning, confused. The early morning sunlight streaming in the window was shining in at the wrong angle, striking her face instead of the wall opposite her bed. She sat up, trying to get her bearings, and caught sight of her naked breasts.

“Oh, shit.”

She remembered now. Her apartment had been broken into by some evil demon thing and Dante had insisted on bringing her home. She’d met Lillian, whom she’d hated on sight, and admitted she’d fallen in love with—and fucked—Dante.

And that was the
normal
stuff. Meeting Dante’s family had been an eye-opener, to say the least. Everyone she’d met wanted to touch her and hug her and question her about everything from her shoe size to whether or not she and Dante were going to get married.

She groaned, her head in her hands. She could smell him on the sheets, on her skin, and found herself eagerly inhaling the scent, something she never would have done had Dante still been in the bed with her.

Yawning, she pushed her dark hair out of her face and surveyed Dante’s bedroom. She’d been far too preoccupied the night before to get a good look around, but she took the opportunity to do so now.

The same wood floors that ran throughout the rest of the house were here too. The king-sized four-poster bed was maple, the sheets a dark maroon.

Above the headboard was a framed picture of a lightning strike. Another lightning print was framed over the matching bureau instead of a mirror. The mirror that was in the room was a tall, freestanding style tucked into one corner of the room.

The wall on her side of the bed boasted two windows draped in soft, sheer gold curtains. Dante had slept on the side closest to the master bathroom and another door she bet led to his closet. He’d painted the walls a rich coffee color.

She liked it. It was warm and inviting without being too masculine.

The door opened cautiously. Beth pulled the sheet up over her breasts, not certain how to handle things. She wasn’t certain she wanted to see Dante with morning-after Muppet hair. “Dante?”

“Good morning, Beth.” Andi’s cheerful voice floated over Beth.

“Andi?” What the fuck was she doing here?

She watched in astonishment as Andi entered the room, arms full of shopping bags. “Guess what I’ve been up to?”

“Neiman Marcus, I’d say.” Beth stared at the bags suspiciously, secretly relieved it was Andi who’d come in and not Dante. “Does one of them have coffee in it? I’ll have you sainted if you have coffee.”

Andi laughed. “Coffee’s on the way, courtesy of Detective Zucco.” Andi leaned in and whispered, “Did you have fun?”

Beth looked up at Andi and debated hitting her with the pillow. “What the hell do you have in the bags?”

“Clothes for you, my sweet.” Andi dumped the bags unceremoniously onto the bed. Shirts and pants, underwear and socks, shoes and cosmetics all tumbled together onto the comforter like crazy colored snow. “Seth called me last night. He told me how your apartment got broken into and trashed.” She sat on the edge of the bed, her glee turning to concern. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I think Dante was more shaken than I was.”

“He’s a cop. He’s used to looking for the worst to happen.” Andi patted Beth’s knee. “I’m just glad you weren’t alone when you went in, and that the burglar was long gone.” She tilted her head. “Could it have anything to do with the case you’re on?”

Oh hell yes, but Beth couldn’t tell Andi that. “Anything is possible.”

Andi shot her a skeptical look, then shook her head and apparently let it go—at least for now. “Anyway, Seth asked for my help, and gave me Dante’s number. I called Dante and he said it was all right to bring this stuff over for you this morning.” Andi shrugged. “What could I do? Pass up the opportunity of a lifetime to give you an unannounced makeover?”

Beth looked at the collection of clothes strewn across the bed. She picked up the black and silver teddy, holding it up to her breasts. She glared at Andi. “A makeover, huh?”

“Good morning.” Dante entered the room, and she quickly shoved the teddy under the sheets, her cheeks burning. His wicked grin told her she’d been a second too late. “Damn. What a very good morning to me.”

Beth whimpered and made grabbing motions with her hands. Fuck the teddy, the man had
coffee
. Dante laughed as she grabbed the mug from his hand and took a huge sip, moaning at the flavor. “Oh thank you, Jesus. French roast.”

“And good morning to you too.” He kissed her cheek, whispering in her ear, “You’re only supposed to moan like that when I fuck you.”

She glared and took another sip, shivering in pleasure as the caffeine rushed through her system.

Dante stole her cup, the bastard, and drank. “Love the hair,
tesoro
.”

She snarled at him. “Gimme or die.”

“Give you what?” He took another sip.

“Um, Detective Zucco?” Both Beth and Dante turned to Andi. “She’s not kidding. The last man who stole her coffee was found under a bridge, shaking and incoherent. Every time someone said the word
espresso
he screamed and passed out.”

Beth bit her lip. Andi could sell snake skin purses to pythons, let alone a small white lie that would give Beth back her coffee. Beth held out her hand, smiling smugly when the hot mug of deliciousness was placed back in it.

“You are evil women.” Dante backed out of the room slowly, but Beth could see the laughter he was holding back. “Evil, coffee thieving, half-naked women.”

Did he just say...?
Glancing at herself she saw...

“Aw, geez.” She quickly pulled the sheet back over her naked breasts as Dante closed the door. “At least he left the coffee.”

A snort of laughter sounded from behind the closed door, then Dante’s footsteps faded away.

She went downstairs an hour later a new woman, freshly showered and dressed in brand new black jeans and a black V-neck pullover. Dante was sitting in the kitchen, drinking coffee and eating cereal, reading the morning paper. “Good morning.” He pushed a small plate of blueberry muffins toward her. “Andi said you like these.”

“Thanks.” She poured herself a cup of coffee and sat at the table, waiting for him to say something. Anything. The playful mood of earlier seemed to be gone, and she wasn’t sure why.

Eventually he lowered the paper with a sigh. “Is something wrong?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking that? You’re the one who’s ignoring me, not the other way around.” She picked up a muffin and broke it in half.

“Sorry.” He neatly folded the paper and stared at her. “But I got an interesting phone call this morning while you were in the shower.”

“Oh? From who?” She frowned, worried. Purvis hadn’t been released from the hospital yet. With a heart attack it was possible something else had happened, like a blood clot to the brain. “Is Purvis all right?”

A faint smile crossed his face. “He’s good, and thank you for asking, but that wasn’t who called.”

She blew out a relieved breath. “Then who did?”

“Sam.”

Uh-oh. “Why did she call you?”

“She called here looking for you. She’s on her way over.”

“Sam is coming here?” This could not end well. Dante was sure to mention this visit to his BFF, Damien.

“What’s so unusual about that? I know she’s shy, but I don’t have two heads or anything.”

“Your brother in weirdness is Damien Wyatt.” And if she’d known that she never would have introduced Dante to Sam. Poor, poor Sam, who’d loved her boss and gotten fired by him.

“Yes, but I don’t see what that has to do with anything.” Dante picked up his glass of orange juice.

“She used to work for Wyatt Industries. In fact, Mr. Wyatt was the one who fired her. I understand there were rumors of embezzlement, but no proof, so he told her the position was ‘phased out.’” Dante choked on his juice. “Didn’t you know?”

“I knew he’d fired
someone
, but I didn’t realize it was Sam.” He set the glass down carefully. “Damien is also on his way over. If I’d known, I would have arranged something else so they didn’t have to meet.” Dante appeared truly remorseful.

Beth sighed wearily. “She was in love with him.”

Dante’s expression turned odd, startled. “Well, shit. He’s been pining for someone for a little over a year now.”

“You think it was Sam?” If so, perhaps Beth could help Damien and Sam overcome their differences. Sam needed someone who could take care of her. She got so lost in her work that she forgot to eat and sleep. If Damien was anything like Seth and Dante, he’d take good care of her friend once he got proof she had nothing to do with the theft from his company.

She’d have to make sure that proof landed on his desk as soon as possible. Sam deserved a happy ending—and a keeper—more than anyone she’d ever known.

The doorbell rang, and he grimaced. “Here we go.”

She stood quickly and moved into the living room in time to see Sam enter the house. Her friend looked flustered, and the reason for it soon became obvious—Damien Wyatt entered behind her. The expression on his face did not bode well for Sam. He stared at her friend like she was a particularly obnoxious bit of stuff stuck to the bottom of his shoe.

“Hi, Sam,” Beth said, hugging her friend. She wasn’t surprised to feel Sam’s hands shaking against her back as the frail blonde hugged her back. “Buck up,” she whispered. “Big bad Beth will protect you.”

She was rewarded with a small laugh. “Thanks. I think I’ll need it.”

“Ms. Brody was just on the porch when I pulled up. What is she doing here?” Damien’s voice was hard, unforgiving.

“She works for me, Damien. She’s here because she’s got information on the Blake case.” Beth’s voice was as hard as his. She moved to stand in front of her friend to protect her from Wyatt’s cold stare.

“You don’t say.” Damien took a seat on the sofa, his gaze darting to Dante. “We need to talk later.”

“Fine.” Dante headed into the kitchen. “But I’m not arguing with you people without more coffee. Give me a few minutes.”

The silence he left behind was thick enough to choke a whale as Damien and Sam studiously ignored one another.

“All right. Let’s get started.” Dante returned about ten minutes later with four mugs of coffee, cream and sugar, all piled neatly on a serving tray. He set the tray on his coffee table and picked up a mug, fixing it just the way Beth liked it. “What have you got for us, Sam?”

The shock on Damien’s face at Dante’s casual use of Sam’s first name amused Beth. She settled on the floor, making herself look very much at home as Sam settled gingerly on the opposite end of the sofa from Damien.

That left no place for Dante to sit, unless he wanted to squeeze his huge bulk in between Damien and Sam. He settled the problem by sitting on the floor near Beth, his big body close to hers, his shoulder pressed against her knee.

“Robert Kensington has been taking payoffs from Todd Blessing’s account for the last six months,” Sam began. Her voice began softly, shyly. She studiously avoided looking at Damien. “Two thousand here, five thousand there, none of it regularly. Last night I realized it had all been transferred to an account in the Caymans, into the same bank Mrs. Blake used.”

“You don’t say.” Dante rubbed Beth’s thigh absently.

Sam nodded. “Is it possible that she was in on the blackmail?”

“It is.” Beth sighed. “The more I find out about this woman the less I like her.” It was shades of her mother all over again. Except Beth’s mother had never done anything illegal, just immoral.

“And just where did you come up with this information?” Damien glared at Sam.

Sam shifted further away from Damien, almost seating herself on the arm of the sofa to get away from him. “I printed out the documents I thought you’d need to see. They’re in my briefcase.” She pulled out a folder from her bag that was bulging with documents. “These are all of Kensington’s and Blessing’s bank statements from the last six months.”

Damien stood and began to pace. “If Ms. Brody has obtained them illegally, they’ll be thrown out of court. You know it and I know it.” Damien glared at Dante. “Why are you working with her? She’s a thief, pure and simple.”

Sam slipped the files into Beth’s hands. “I am not.”

Dante stood and faced Damien. “Sam, where did you get this information?”

Sam shrugged. “I went through his trash.”

Everyone stared at her, and she seemed to shrink in on herself. “I thought that he might have thrown away something with his account number on it, and he did. It was a simple matter to run a few possible passwords, and then I was in his account. I printed out the statements, then repeated the process with Mr. Blessing.”

Beth laughed. “Did you wear a trench coat and a fedora?”

Sam blushed. “Maybe.”

“Atta girl.” Beth gave Sam two thumbs up.

“Were you seen?” Dante’s concern was touching.

“I was careful. I did it at three in the morning, so no one would see me.”

“You trespassed on private property.” Damien’s voice was laced with ice.

Sam shrugged. “Technically, no. When someone throws something away, puts it on the curb, it’s considered abandoned property, and therefore public domain. Cops don’t need a search warrant to pick up trash bags and go through them, and neither do I.” She ignored the silence that greeted the statement and continued. “It was the logical next move. Without the account information I couldn’t trace the money once it left the United States. I went through everyone else’s trash too,” she added quietly. “There were a few red flags, but nothing yet that I’d want to say. Not without a little more verification.”

“Good work, Sam.” Beth ignored Damien’s snort of disdain. If Damien didn’t knock it off, Beth was going to smack him, suspected Nephilim or not. She kept her attention on Dante, aware they’d need to do something about the unexpected information Sam had uncovered. “We need to talk to Kensington.”

He nodded. “I’ll need to talk to Gabriel, tell him what we found out. Or rather, what you found out and were kind enough to pass on to me,” he said to Sam. “If Kensington is one of the Shem, he hides it very well.”