Play Dead (31 page)

“I’m not surprised,” Farah unexpectedly said. “You know how much Laird wanted to show his father that he, too, could be a huge success. He had something to prove. It obsessed him.”

Hayley supposed Farah was right. Laird had admitted to her that he’d coveted Surf’s Up for some time. He’d tried to get it—legally—but she’d been instrumental in keeping the business in the family.

“Ch-aad?” The single word came out like a raspy sound. She knew she shouldn’t be talking. The doctors had explained the overdose of scopolamine could damage her vocal chords. Time would take care of her voice, her sight. But it was difficult to just lie there, helpless.

“Chad was conducting a deposition in San Diego,” Ryan said. “The police have a warrant out for his arrest.”

“Why?” Farah sounded shocked. “Just because Laird used his boat?”

“No,” Ryan explained. “I told Detective Wells that I found evidence on Alison’s computer that there had been a trust. Laird and Chad destroyed it. Apparently, McMasters thought that he could persuade you two to sell if Hayley was out of the way.”

There was a full minute of what Hayley imagined was stunned silence before Trent asked, “How did you know what was on the computer?”

“W-w-we—”

“I’ll explain, Hayley. Save your voice.” Ryan’s arm tightened around her for just a second. “I hacked into her files and found it in the trash bin. They thought it had been wiped clean but it was there. I found another copy in the clouds.”

“Clouds?” Farah stared at Ryan as if he were about to reveal the whereabouts of the Holy Grail.

Hayley listened to Ryan explain about cloud computing and how some information was stored on a server nowhere near the actual computer. She wished she could see them to analyze what they were thinking. They were probably asking themselves why she’d had Ryan hack into her mother’s computer. They must realize she’d suspected them. It would take a thousand words for her to explain. Now wasn’t the time, but she couldn’t help feeling guilty.

After an awkward silence, Trent said, “Wanna bet Chad hightails it to Mexico? What’s left for him here? He’ll be disbarred.”

“I think you’re right,” Farah said with characteristic sarcasm.

“I’m sure the police have considered this,” Conrad said, speaking for the first time. “San Diego is so close to the Mexican border.”

Hayley listened to the group discuss Chad’s duplicity, how he was financially overextended, and Laird must have promised him a chunk of dough to forget he’d ever seen the trust.

“A-nd-ee,” Hayley interjected.

“Andy’s with Timmy and Courtney,” Farah said. “They’ll take care of him.”

Hayley smiled and nodded to save her voice. She wanted to tell them how Andy had tried to warn her about
the woman in the red bikini, but decided it would have to wait. She had something more pressing to say.

“I—I wah-nt go h-home.” Hayley botched the sentence, but hoped they would understand.

“The doctors want to keep you overnight,” Ryan said gently. “You should be starting to regain your eyesight by then.”

“N-no!” The word came out like a shot. “Home.”

“Hayley, be sensible,” her aunt said. “Stay the night.”

She shook her head, determined. She wanted to go home now! To sleep in her own bed. “M-my loft.”

“I’ll talk to the doctor,” Ryan said in a resigned tone. “But I have to go out for a short meeting tonight.”

“Can’t you postpone it?” Conrad asked.

“I need to tell my boss that I’m resigning. I should have told him days ago, but I didn’t want to leave Hayley.” Ryan paused for a moment, then added, “I’ll be as fast as possible. My boss is at the Marriott for a conference. I don’t want him to hear about my involvement and think I’m still with the Bureau. I’ve violated a lot of their rules.”

“Isn’t hacking against the law?” Farah wanted to know.

Hayley battled the urge to make an ugly remark. Then she reminded herself that she’d misjudged Farah and Trent. She should be apologizing, if anything.

“I’ll go speak with the doctor,” Ryan said, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “We’ll get you out of here.”

She felt Ryan leave her side and walk out of the room. For a moment no one spoke. Hayley tried to imagine what they were thinking.

“Won’t you have trouble getting around?” Farah asked.

Hayley shook her head. “K-know m-my place.”

“I could come over and stay with you while Ryan’s at the meeting,” Aunt Meg volunteered.

Again, Hayley shook her head. “Sl-sleep.”

“She’ll be asleep,” Farah interpreted. “She won’t need anyone for such a short time. I’m sure Ryan will keep his meeting brief.”

H
AYLEY EASED
back into her own bed. Her own bed! Not that she didn’t like Conrad’s oceanfront home, but when you can’t see
anything
the familiarity of your own place is unbelievably comforting. She knew where everything was—even though Ryan refused to allow her to stumble around on her own. He’d undressed Hayley and found a nightgown. He’d already guided her across the bedroom to the adjacent bathroom.

“Are you sleepy?” Ryan asked.

She shook her head and reached out her arms. Emotionally shaken, she eked out a whisper. “H-h-old m-me.”

The bed gave and she knew he’d sat down beside her. A rustling of the sheets meant he’d stretched out. He took her into his arms, gently as if he might hurt her.

“I’ve never been so damn worried in my whole life,” Ryan whispered, and a knot formed in her throat. “I don’t know what I would have done if anything happened to you.”

A shiver rippled through her as Hayley realized how close she’d come to death. She would never have seen Ryan again. The thought disturbed her then and even more now. She decided all the questioning by the police and knowing Laird had been killed made everything much too real.

“I—I w-as…t-errified,” she managed to whisper.

“Forget about it.” He kissed the top of her head. “You’re safe now.”

She buried her face against his powerful chest and relaxed, sinking into his embrace. Her world finally felt…right. Well, almost right. By tomorrow she should be able to see and speak without her throat aching. Then her world would be perfect.

“Are you okay? This isn’t hurting you?” he asked.

“N-no.” She could hardly lift her voice above a whisper.

The warmth of his body was so male, so comforting. At the hospital, she’d been tired but now she felt better. A familiar surge of awareness rippled through her. She’d been through a terrifying ordeal but her body didn’t seem to care. It wanted Ryan, and it wanted him now. She snuggled even closer but he didn’t seem to get the message.

“Detective Wells told me he’d consulted the San Francisco PD. They said a previous girlfriend had complained about Steve Fulton. I don’t think Lindsey was making up anything. I just think Fulton’s an accomplished liar.”

Thinking about Lindsey almost destroyed her good mood. No matter what Steve had done, things would have turned out differently if Hayley hadn’t insisted Lindsey come stay with her. A wonderful, talented person would still be alive.

One of Ryan’s hands rested on the curve of her waist. Through the silky fabric she felt the heat of his hand as it coasted upward, a scant inch at a time. Guilty feelings were replaced in a heartbeat by anticipated pleasure. She reached up and fumbled around for a moment until she found the curve of his neck. She brought his head down to meet her lips. He kissed her carefully, as if for the very first time.

Giving herself to the passion of the kiss, freed something in Hayley that she hadn’t realized existed. For some reason she’d been holding back, waiting to be sure she had the right man. Now she was certain and the knowledge lifted a weight.

She wanted to scream:
Yes! Yes! Yes!
But her throat still hurt and Ryan would only tell her to be quiet.

As he kissed her, his hand continued to slide upward until it found her breasts. Cradling one in his warm hand, Ryan rubbed his thumb over the taut nipple. Pleasure spiraled through her and moist heat centered in her upper thighs.

“Perfect,” he told her. “Absolutely perfect.”

Before she could attempt a croaking response, he was kissing her again, harder this time. New spirals of ecstasy surged through her. She returned his kiss with reckless abandon. This was what she’d been waiting for even though she’d never realized she
had
been waiting. She wanted to be swept away—to forget almost being killed, seeing a dead man, knowing she’d caused a friend’s death.

Ryan released her, and Hayley thought about protesting but the swishing noise and the metallic zipping sound told her that Ryan was taking off his clothes. She wiggled out of the sheer nightie she was wearing and tossed it aside. He drew her against his powerful body again and she was immediately engulfed in his heat.

She sighed deeply and inhaled the woodsy fragrance of his aftershave and reveled in the smoothness of his skin and the prickling sensation where hair covered his chest, his sex. She ran her hands over him, memorizing every curve and firm plane. Not seeing, relying on touch and smell, heightened her desire in a way she never could have anticipated.

And hearing! She could actually hear the thud-thud of his heart. It pulsed beneath the palm of her hand. She’d never noticed the sound before, but his ragged breathing was familiar.

His erection jutted into her tummy, rock-hard and hot. She ran a finger across the smooth tip, and he moaned. Her hand closed around him, squeezing. A low growl rumbled from his throat.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, his voice husky. “You’ve got a lot of bruises. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I’m okay,” she whispered.

His mouth closed over hers and she parted her lips. Her tongue brushed his and another jolt of heat suffused her body. He tasted faintly like coffee. His lips were firm and moist. She arched against him, moving provocatively as his hand on her hips pressed her flush against his rigid penis.

Hayley couldn’t remember ever being this aroused as her pulse kicked into overdrive. She was almost desperate to have him inside her, but Ryan didn’t seem to be in any hurry. She speared her fingers into his thick hair and clutched a fistful of it. She eased one leg between his, then moved her knee—just a little.

Ryan muttered something under his breath. He could have been cursing or praying. She was reasonably certain he wasn’t consulting God. She giggled at the thought. When had a man
ever
made her laugh during sex? Well, come to think about it, she’d giggled a lot the last time they’d made love.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, his voice gruff and barely above a whisper.

“You must have been cursing,” she whispered, “but for a minute, I thought you were praying. That made me laugh.”

“I was praying. Praying I can hold on until I make you climax.”

She wanted to say he’d never had any trouble before, but he smothered her words with a searing kiss. Her whole body quivered with anticipation. She didn’t know what he was concerned about; she was ready to climax any second.

She tried to whisper, “Hurry,” but it came out a croaking word. Soon she’d be talking normally, she realized. She could tell him how she felt about him.

Ryan eased her onto her back and moved over her. She felt the heat of his body—but not its weight. He kept his heavy torso supported by his forearms. He kissed the nublike nipple and caressed it with his tongue. The light prickle of his emerging beard rasped her sensitive skin. She wiggled beneath him, urging him to get on with it.

His mouth played with her nipple, sucking hard. Blood thundering like jungle drums in her ears, Hayley arched upward. A puff of cool air swished across her bare backside but did nothing to chill her overheated body. Her breath rushed out of her lungs in a long moan.

“Like that, huh?”

She could reply; it had nothing to do with her sore throat. She was too close to climaxing to utter a single word.

Ryan brushed the velvet tip of his penis against the soft folds of her sex. He wriggled his rigid shaft into her a scant inch at a time, slowly stretching her. With a powerful thrust, he was deep inside her. Hayley bit her lip to keep from exploding into minute convulsions of pleasure.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

Again, she was afraid to speak except to herself.
It hurts sooo good.
Slowly, rhythmically, he rocked back
and forth, drawing his body in and out of hers. Each thrust brought a surge of pleasure as potent as any narcotic. She moved with him, lifting her hips to meet his each time he withdrew.

Pummeling her now, Hayley held on by wrapping her legs around his hips, arms around his neck. A few seconds later, her world dissolved into a series of spasms of pleasure so intense she cried out, “Ryan! Oh, Ryan!”

She felt him throw his head back. With a final surge he powered into her as if he couldn’t get deep enough. A split-second later, he collapsed on top of her, his breath coming in wrenching heaves. Still buried to the hilt, Ryan quickly rolled onto his side, taking her with him.

Still linked, they lay there winded, facing each other. Hayley snuggled against his chest, thinking she’d never made love to a man like this. She’d never given herself fully—until now.

How did Ryan feel?

She knew he cared about her, but he’d mourned his wife for so long. His love for her must be deep and lasting. Was there room for Hayley in his heart? Was he ready?

She wanted to ask him, but now wasn’t the right time. He was still panting deeply, trying to catch his breath. Hayley thought she could talk, but she wasn’t positive. She had managed to get out a few actual words—not grainy whispers—during sex. But this might develop into a long discussion. She should wait until she could speak normally and look him in the eye to gauge his reaction.

Ryan started to say something but the
brr-ing brr-ing
of his cell phone interrupted him. He rolled off her and a faint whoosh of air drifted across her naked body and chilled her. She fumbled for the covers as she felt Rob sit up. She found the sheet and pulled it over her.

“Hollister,” she heard him say. Then he listened for a minute before adding, “I’ll be right there.”

She felt his weight leave the bed. “Gotta go. That was Tom Dawkins. My boss finished early.”

“T-time is—?”

“Eight-thirty.” He kissed the nape of her neck, then said, “I wouldn’t go, but I need to see him to explain why I’m resigning.”

“O-okay. B-be…h-here.”

His weight left the bed. “I won’t be long.” Rustling sounds told her Ryan was putting on his clothes. “I was going to pick up Andy afterward, but I think I’ll leave him with Timmy until tomorrow.”

Good idea, she thought. She needed to talk to Trent about Timmy.

“O-o-h-h,” she screamed as she realized what was happening.

She felt Ryan’s weight hit the bed. “What’s the matter?”

“I—I c-can…
see!
”

“You’re kidding. Just like that, you can see?”

The room wasn’t pitch-black the way it had been. She pointed in the direction of the ghostly blur. “L-light.”

“Light’s coming through the window on the bay from the exterior lights and a full moon.”

“Oth-er lights?” She croaked out the question.

“No. There wasn’t any point in turning on the lights, since you can’t see, and I thought you were going to sleep.”

“O-on…n-now.” She was speaking again, but her words sounded as if her tongue was sandpaper.

Hayley felt his weight leave the mattress and a second later heard the click of the bedside lamp. She turned
toward it and saw a blurry glow and next to it a tall, dark form that must be Ryan. “S-see light…not m-m-uch…more.”

The shadow moved closer, then blotted out the lamp’s light. She felt Ryan’s breath on her cheek. He kissed her lightly on the lips. “You’re getting better just like the doctors said. By tomorrow you should be back to normal. Get some rest now.”

Ryan turned out the light and pressed a wad of silky fabric into her hand. Her nightgown, she realized, and slipped it over her head. She sank back onto the pillow, suddenly exhausted.

“I won’t be gone long,” he promised again.

Hayley closed her eyes and allowed herself to relax. It had been a harrowing experience, but everything was going to be okay. They’d find Chad, arrest him, and the jerk would get what he deserved. She’d be maid of honor at her aunt’s wedding. She drifted into sleep with a contented smile.

H
AYLEY AWAKENED
some time later—alone. She groggily blinked her eyes. Yes! She was seeing even better now. Moonlight filtered through the large window facing the bay. It was an unfocused blur, as if she had Vaseline in her eyes, but she could make it out now better than she had when Ryan had been here. Blobs of what she knew to be furniture crouched in the shadows.

Ryan? Where was he? Oh, yes. He’d gone to explain his resignation to his boss. How long ago had that been? She turned to where she knew her digital alarm clock was on the bedside table. Nothing but a red blur.

Ryan couldn’t have been gone long, she reasoned. His meeting was at the Marriott, which wasn’t far away, and he’d said he’d be right back.

Suddenly, her ears detected a noise. Out on the water? No. The sound had come from inside the loft. Another squeak.

It had to be the free-standing staircase that led up from the lower level to her bedroom. The stainless steel wasn’t attached as tight as it should have been on certain stairs. It wasn’t dangerous so she’d put off having it repaired.

Was Ryan back? She doubted it. A man of his size would cause a louder squeak. If it wasn’t Ryan, who was it?

She strained to see through the darkness to her bedroom door. She recognized the outline of the door, but nothing else was visible—even the palest suggestion of a glow. If it had been Aunt Meg or Courtney returning with Andy, they would have turned on the downstairs light.

They wouldn’t sneak up the stairs in the pitch dark.

Chad
was her first thought. The police hadn’t captured him—last she heard. He might blame her—in the same crazy way Laird had—for his troubles. She considered slipping out and hiding, but there was nowhere to go except under the bed or into the closet. Any idiot would think to check there.

She squinted into the darkness beyond her bedroom door and detected a pinpoint of light. A flashlight, she realized. It made sense. The stairs were treacherous. A fall from this level—the third floor—could mean death or serious injury.

Who would come up using a flashlight? Chad, she thought again. He’d been here many times when they’d been engaged. He’d always warned her that the stairs were dangerous. As a precaution, he would know to bring a flashlight.