Fatal Flaw (27 page)

His tongue teased and enticed. One of his hands was buried in her hair while the other slid down her back to better align their bodies.

Lindsey had never before experienced passion like this and had to pull herself out of the moment to remember that just a few short minutes ago she’d been thinking of ways to get rid of him. Breathing hard, she broke the kiss and turned her face away.

He took advantage of the opportunity to explore her neck, which made the rest of her throb with need. “Terry…”

“What?” he whispered, his breath hot against her sensitive skin.

“We, I…”

“Say the word if you want me to stop.”

She was under some sort of hypnosis. That was the only possible explanation for why she didn’t stop him as his lips laid a trail from her neck to her throat. His hands shifted from her hips to her breasts. He cupped them and ran his thumbs over the tight buds of her nipples, sending a shudder all the way through her.

And then his mouth was devouring hers again. His hands were under her top and pushing up her bra to free her breasts.

The word
stop
hovered on her lips, but somehow she never actually said it. As he pinched her nipples between his fingers and caressed her lips with bold strokes of his tongue, the last thing in the world she wanted was for this feeling to stop.

“Lindsey,” he gasped, his face warm against hers. “Tell me to stop or find us a bed.” He maneuvered them so her back was against the counter and pushed his erection against her.

She’d never wanted a man the way she wanted him, and even as alarms went off in her mind that it was too much too soon, she took his hand and led him upstairs to her bedroom.

Once there, he held her from behind, his erection nestled in the cleft of her ass. He reached for the hem of her top and drew it up and over her head. Unclipping her bra, he removed it too, and then proceeded to drive her mad with his hands on her breasts and his lips on her neck. When she tried to turn to face him, he stopped her and made her moan with frustration.

“Easy, baby. Just feel.”

She’d begun to wonder how much longer her legs would support her weight when his hand traveled to the button of her jeans. He had the button open and the zipper down so fast she had no time to prepare before his hand was inside her panties, exploring the slick heat between her legs.

She was so primed, so ready, that it took just a few strokes of his fingers over her clit to send her flying into orgasm so intense that her legs finally buckled beneath her.

His arms tightened around her, keeping her standing as he continued to stroke her sensitive skin. “Again,” he whispered.

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.” He set out to prove her wrong with relentless determination, and before long she was climbing again.

The second explosion was even greater than the first, rocking through her with such force that she cried out from the shock of it. Still in a daze, she was barely aware of him removing her jeans and panties and lowering her to the bed. Focused on catching her breath, she managed to keep her eyes open as he unbuttoned the dress shirt he’d worn to work and dropped it on the floor. His undershirt, pants and boxers followed before he stretched out on the bed next to her.

“Hey,” he said, resting a hand on her belly. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Lindsey laughed, but as she let her eyes travel over his chest and belly and below, her mouth went dry. Oh, my.

“You sure about this?” he asked.

“I wasn’t.” She forced her gaze up to meet his and found him watching her face intently. “But somewhere between the kitchen and the second orgasm I stopped worrying about all the reasons this is a bad idea and started focusing on all the reasons it’s a good idea.”

Smiling, he propped himself up on one elbow and bent to kiss her softly, gently. “I think it’s the best idea we’ve ever had.”

“You do, huh?”

He nodded as he started all over again with drugging kisses and teasing caresses that soon had her primed and ready for more.

“Terry,” she gasped. “Please.”

“What do you want?” he asked in a playful tone.

“You know.”

“Tell me.”

She found his impressive erection and stroked the length of him once and then again, drawing a groan from him. “I want you. Now.”

“Hold that thought.” He got up and found his pants on the floor, withdrew his wallet and found a strip of three condoms. Ripping off one, he threw the other two on the bedside table.

“You came prepared.”

“I’ve been carrying them since the day after I met you.”

For some reason, she was ridiculously flattered by that. “Such confidence,” she teased.

He brought her to the edge of the bed and settled between her legs. “It was more hope than confidence.” Bending over her, he kissed her again. “I’ve been anything but confident where you were concerned.”

Lindsey smoothed her hands over his back. “I didn’t mean to drive you crazy.”

“Yes, you did,” he said, chuckling as he entered her.

She closed her eyes and floated on a cloud of sensation.

“Look at me.”

Opening her eyes, she found him watching her.

“Good?” he asked.

“Soooo good.”

“I knew it would be.”

Lindsey reached up to run her fingers through his hair. “I think I knew too, which is why I was so freaked out.”

“No need to be freaked out. We’ll take it slow.”

In light of what they were currently doing, that statement made her laugh. “Not too slow I hope,” she said, lifting her hips to meet his thrusts. That seemed to make him a little crazy, and he picked up the pace.

Lindsey held on for the ride as he drove them both to an explosive finish.

Emergency vehicles lined Ninth Street as cops secured Sam’s home and scoured for evidence. Normally, she’d be in the thick of the investigation, but the blinding headache wouldn’t allow her to do anything other than sit on the curb and try not to vomit again.

“Looks like they jimmied a window in the back of the house to get in,” Captain Malone reported. Only about twenty minutes had passed since Tracy and Sam discovered the carnage in her closet, but it felt like a year to Sam. The lights, the sirens, the people and the activity all around her made her want to weep from the agonizing pain.

“Let me take you to Dad’s so you can lie down,” Tracy said.

“I should wait. They might need to talk to me.” The idea of her home, her private sanctuary, invaded by a stranger and now crawling with cops was enough to make her sick on its own, even without the headache.

“We’ll be fine, Sam,” Malone said. “Your sister is right. You need to be in bed.”

Sam wanted to argue with them, but she couldn’t seem to find the words. Between the pain and the medication they’d given her in the hospital, she was totally out of it.

Tracy helped her stand, guided her to their father’s house and up the stairs to the bedroom that had been Sam’s from the time of her father’s shooting until the recent move up the street.

Sam drifted in and out after that, grateful for the quiet and the darkened room. Somewhere in the back of her mind it occurred to her that she should probably call Nick. But then she remembered he was in Boston with Scotty and decided she’d tell him when he got home. That would be soon enough.

When Nick saw the emergency vehicles lining Ninth Street, he nearly stopped breathing. “Oh my God.” He turned to Scotty. “Wait here. I’ll be back for you.”

“But Nick—”

“Wait.” To one of the Capitol Police officers, Nick said, “Will you stay here with him?”

“Of course, Senator. Not a problem.”

Nick ran down the street and grabbed the first cop he encountered, a patrolman he didn’t recognize. “What’s going on?”

“Ah, Senator, let me get the captain for you.” The young man gestured to Malone and pointed to Nick.

Captain Malone walked over to them.

“Where’s Sam?” Nick asked. “What’s happened?”

“She’s at her father’s. Someone broke into your house and from what we can tell they had one thing in mind—shredding every ounce of clothing she owns, including her wedding gown.”

Nick tried to process it. “But the house is alarmed. How did someone get in?”

“Apparently, the alarm wasn’t set.”

“That’s not possible. I set it myself.” He ran through the morning in his mind, thinking of Scotty’s excitement and nonstop chatter as they’d prepared to leave. Of course he’d set the alarm. He’d never forget something so important.

“All I can tell you is when the lieutenant and her sister arrived home earlier, the alarm wasn’t on.”

Nick suddenly felt sick. “I need to see Sam.” He strode purposefully down the street and up the ramp to Skip and Celia’s place.

Tracy was coming down the stairs as he came in. “What’re you doing here?” she asked, clearly surprised to see him.

“What’s wrong with Sam?”

“Severe migraine that came on out of nowhere at work earlier. How did you hear?”

“I got a call from a reporter that Sam had been taken to the hospital and that something was wrong at the house, so we came home early.”

“I’m sorry you had to find out that way. She asked us all not to call you because she didn’t want to ruin Scotty’s day.”

“That’s what I figured. I need a favor.” He explained about leaving Scotty with the police officer.

“I’ll go get him.”

“Thanks, Tracy.” Nick ran upstairs to his wife. In the doorway to the room where so many significant moments had transpired between them, he took a moment to drink in the sight of her. Watching the rise and fall of her chest filled him with relief. Despite the workings of his rather active imagination, the thing he most feared hadn’t happened. She was fine, and as a result, so was he.

Mindful of the pain she must be in, he moved carefully to stretch out next to her, linking his hand with hers. After three of the longest hours of his life, he was finally able to breathe normally again.

“Who called you?” she murmured.

“Shh. Don’t talk. Just rest.”

“Are you mad?”

“No.” He brought her hand to his lips. Normally, he’d be furious that she hadn’t called him, but he knew she’d been making a sincere effort to be more forthcoming with him. Today she’d held back for Scotty’s sake, so he couldn’t fault her for that.

“Where’s Scotty?”

“With Tracy.”

“We should get him out of here.”

“Everything’s fine. Don’t worry.”

“Everything’s not fine,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “Someone was in the house.”

“Your people are all over it. They’ll figure out what’s going on.”

“People keep dying. Tied to me somehow. What did I do?”

He hated the pain and bewilderment he heard in her voice. “Nothing, babe. You didn’t do anything.”

A tear slipped from her closed eye and ran down her cheek. “They ruined my beautiful wedding dress.”

Nick brushed away the tear. “I’ll buy you a new one.”

“Won’t be the same.”

“They can ruin everything we have, but they can’t touch us unless we let them.”

“Hurts.” He knew she meant more than the migraine.

“I know.”

“Need you.”

“I’m here, baby. I’m right here.”

She turned gingerly onto her side and brought their joined hands to her chest. “I stink like puke.”

Smiling, he pressed his lips to her forehead. “No, you don’t. Where does it hurt?”

She pointed to her temple.

Nick replaced her finger with two of his, massaging the area as gently as he could. “Is that good?”

“Yeah. Don’t stop.”

“I won’t.” He massaged her temple for a long time, until he felt her drift off to sleep. As he held her, he thought of what she’d told him and the staggering implications. People were dying, and somehow it was all linked to her? What crazy person from her past had come back to torment her? How would they ever narrow down the suspects? And most important of all, how would he keep her safe until they did?

Nick waited until he was sure she was asleep before he got up to check on Scotty. He had to be concerned about what was going on with Sam, especially since they’d arrived home to emergency vehicles all over the street. Nick went downstairs where Scotty was enjoying a big bowl of ice cream under Tracy’s watchful eye.

He brightened when he saw Nick. “Is Sam okay?”

“She will be.” Nick ruffled the boy’s hair. “She had a really bad headache.”

“A migraine, right?”

“You know about migraines?”

“Uh huh. Mrs. Littlefield gets them sometimes. She has special pills she has to take when she feels them coming on. Can we get some for Sam? I can find out what it is.”

“That’d be really helpful.”

Scotty shoveled in another scoop of ice cream. “I’ll ask her.”

“How’s your dad?” Nick asked Tracy.

“Much better today. Celia said they might let him come home in a couple of days. She’s on her way home now.”

“Did you tell her we’ve invaded her house?”

“Yes, and of course she’s fine with it.”

Nick turned a kitchen chair and straddled it to face Scotty. “Buddy, there’s some weird stuff going on with Sam’s work—”

“That’s why the police are here.”

He said it so matter-of-factly that Nick was taken aback. “Yes, that’s why. Until we know what we’re dealing with, we’re going to have some extra police around. If Sam wasn’t so sick, I’d run you home tonight to get you out of here, but I can’t leave her.”

“I don’t want you to leave her. I’m fine with being here with you guys. Don’t worry about me.”

“Sam is worried about you, and so am I. We’d never want to put you in any kind of danger.”

“I know that. So what happened at your house?”

Nick glanced at Tracy, who nodded. He was past the age of sugarcoating the truth. “Someone broke in and cut up Sam’s clothes.”

Scotty’s mouth fell open and his spoon froze midscoop. “Why would they do that?”

“We don’t know, but the other detectives are looking into it. I have no doubt they’ll find the person who did it.”

“They haven’t found the person who shot Skip,” Scotty reminded him.

“Don’t let Sam hear you say that. She’s been trying to solve that case since the day it happened.”

“She’ll solve it.” Scotty choked back a yawn. “I know she will.”

“Time for you to hit the hay,” Nick said.

“Already?”

“You’ve had a long day.”

“The best day ever. Until Sam got sick and everything.”

Nick walked Scotty upstairs, made sure he brushed his teeth and tucked him into one of the spare bedrooms. He’d considered sending the boy to Tracy’s for the night, but decided against it, preferring to have him close by. When Nick looked in on him a few minutes later, he was already asleep. He checked on Sam before he went downstairs and then outside looking for information—but stayed right near Skip’s front door.

Gonzo was consulting with Captain Malone on the sidewalk. Keeping one eye on the house where Sam and Scotty were sleeping, Nick went over to them. “What’ve you got?”

“Oh, Senator, I didn’t see you there,” Malone said, startled. He looked tired and furious. Sam was one of his, and he would take an attack on her personally.

“Any idea who could’ve done this?” Nick asked.

“I wish I had answers for you, but we believe this is a calculated campaign,” Malone said. “Someone is exacting revenge on people who’ve done him or her wrong in the past. In the morning, we’re going to start looking at connections between the various victims.”

“How do you know this is revenge, and how is Sam involved?”

Malone and Gonzo exchanged glances.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“Show him,” Malone said.

Gonzo produced a photocopy of a greeting card with a handwritten message.

Nick took it and, still facing Skip’s house, he tipped the paper so he could use the streetlight. A stab of fear went through him as he read the chilling words. “Has Sam seen this?”

“Not yet,” Gonzo said. “She got sick before I could show it to her.”

“May I keep this?”

“Sure,” Gonzo said.

Nick tucked the page into the back pocket of his jeans. “So this is why the Capitol Police met my flight.” The two officers were standing in the street watching his every move.

“Yes,” Malone said. “Until we know more about what we’re dealing with, it might be a good idea to avoid large public gatherings. Stick close to home and your office.”

“I’m in the middle of a campaign. How do you suggest I avoid public gatherings?”

“Hopefully, it won’t take long to get to the bottom of this. When you look at the totality of the messages the two of you have received, it’s clear to us you’re being targeted.”

“If someone’s looking to exact revenge on Sam,” Gonzo added, “you’d be a handy target.”

“Fine, I’ll tone down the campaign for a few days. But I’m far more interested in what’s being done to protect Sam from this lunatic.”

“We’ve ordered twenty-four-hour protection for her and every member of her immediate family.”

“Does that include Skip in the hospital?”

“It does. We have two men positioned outside his room.”

“Good, because if someone is trying to hurt Sam, they probably know he’s a weak spot.”

“Agreed,” Malone said. “I know the threats against Sam have to be getting tiresome, Senator, but we’re doing everything we can to get to the bottom of this situation and to figure out who is targeting you and Sam.”

Nick had a lot of things he’d like to say about why his wife was constantly being threatened, but he knew Sam wouldn’t want him to go there. “I’d appreciate being kept in the loop.”

“Of course. It would help us if you could take a look through the house and let us know if anything else has been disturbed or if you notice anything missing.”

“I’ll take a quick look, but I don’t want to be away from Sam any longer than I have to.”

“We understand. We’ll make it quick.”

Nick glanced at Skip’s. “Will one of you keep an eye on things here while I’m in there?”

“I will,” Gonzo said. “Go on ahead.”

Nick moved quickly through the home he shared with Sam, focusing on things of value that might’ve been stolen by an intruder. “I don’t see anything else disturbed,” Nick said to Malone, who had accompanied him.

In the room he’d had made into a closet for Sam’s vast wardrobe and shoe collection, Nick was overwhelmed with sadness as he studied what remained of her gorgeous wedding gown. He made a mental note to contact their wedding planner, Shelby Faircloth, to see about having it replaced. It wouldn’t be the same, of course, but he had to do something to make this right, especially since it was his fault it’d happened in the first place. He winced when he saw the wrecked remains of her prized Jimmy Choos and the new Manolos he’d bought her to wear the night they got engaged. He’d replace them as fast as he could.

“Senator?” Malone asked after Nick had stood in the doorway to the closet for several minutes.

Nick tore his eyes off the shredded silk and moved on to check every other room of the double-sized townhouse. “As far as missing items,” he said as they went downstairs, “I can’t say for sure, but it doesn’t look like anything was touched except for Sam’s clothes and shoes.” An icy ball of dread settled in his gut as the implications registered—this was a calculated,
personal
attack on his wife.

“We’ll find the person who did this, Senator,” Malone said, his tone fierce and angry. “He or she has come after one of our own. We’ll find them.”

Nick wanted to quiz the captain on the plan of attack, but he was far more anxious to get back to Sam in case she woke up. Tomorrow would be soon enough to get the details. Tonight he would watch over his family.

Freddie spent the night in his car outside the Lynch home. Even though he and his mother were in an odd place in their relationship at the moment, no way would he leave her unprotected in a place where murder had occurred earlier in the day—even when his partner’s home had been broken into. He’d followed the radio traffic about the incident on Ninth Street all night, and had heard from Gonzo that Sam was sleeping through most of the drama.