Sweet Talk (13 page)

“How are you feeling?” he asked Olivia.

“I’m fine,” she answered.

He turned to Grayson. “Have you got any leads on who shot Olivia? I’m sure it’s one of the people she’s going after for not paying their taxes. A lot of people hate her . . . I mean . . . hate the IRS.”

Grayson didn’t say a word. He simply stared at George until he flinched and looked away.

“Where’s Natalie?” Olivia asked.

“In Miami with your parents.”

“Does she know you’re here?”

“Of course. In fact, she suggested I come talk to you.”

Here we go. “Talk to me about what?” she asked innocently.

“You simply have to talk to Emma and convince her to put her money in Trinity,” he blurted.

“No. Was there anything else you wanted to talk about?”

“Don’t dismiss me,” he snapped. “This is important. People . . . influential people . . . know she hasn’t invested. When she does, they’ll follow suit.”

“No.”

“This is killing your mother and your sister.”

“What’s killing them?” she asked. She tried to sound worried but couldn’t pull it off.

“This hold you have on Emma. She’ll do whatever you tell her to do.”

“She will not. She’s an intelligent, strong, independent woman.” And you’re a moron, she silently added.

“But you’ve got this special hold on her, ever since you gained her sympathy when you were sick.”

“I gained her sympathy? Are you kidding me?”

“I’m simply stating what I know to be true.”

“You know, George, until today I thought you had at least half a brain. I don’t think that any longer. You’re as blind as Mother and Natalie when it comes to Father’s scam.”

George huffed and started to get up. He glanced at Grayson, and quickly sat down again. “You’re the one who’s blind. Do you realize how much money Natalie and I have made?”

Grayson took over. “Why don’t you use some of it to pay off your loan?”

Feigning ignorance, he said, “What loan?”

“The loan from your bookie. Subway calls himself a bookie, right?”

“Listen here,” he shouted. “That’s private . . .”

“Natalie doesn’t know about the loan, does she?” Olivia asked.

He seemed to deflate in front of her. His shoulders slumped as he hunched over, and his head dropped.

“No.” He sounded as though he wanted to cry. “She’ll divorce me if she finds out.”

“You’re going to have to take that risk. You can’t ignore a loan shark—”

“He’s a bookie,” he snapped. He buried his face in his hands. “I’ve been such a fool. I started out placing a couple of bets on some college basketball games, and before I knew it, I was in over my head.”

“How does getting Emma to invest in Trinity help you?” Olivia asked.

“It doesn’t,” he answered. “I’m just trying to help your parents and Natalie. It’s very important to them that the firm continues to grow, and Emma is so influential. If her friends knew she’d put her faith in the fund, they’d follow suit.”

“And you could take some of your money out for your debts?”

“No, I can’t do that . . . not without Natalie finding out about the gambling.”

She was getting sick to her stomach. “Tell Natalie, and for God’s sake, get your money out of that fund before it’s too late.”

“You’re not going to be reasonable, are you?” He paused for a moment, and Olivia could almost see his mind racing. “Now that you know about my debts . . . what about you?”

“What about me?”

“You could borrow against your trust. Don’t you get it in two months?”

“No, a year and two months,” she corrected.

“What happens to the trust if Olivia dies before she gets it?” Grayson asked.

Without hesitating, George said, “It all goes to Natalie.”

“And you.”

“Well, yes, we’re married—” He stopped abruptly. “Wait . . . you don’t think I would ever harm Olivia.”

Grayson didn’t answer. He didn’t think George had the nerve to shoot anyone. He could see him hiring people, though.

“And once she has the money, if anything were to happen to her, it would go to whomever she’s named in her will,” Grayson said.

George pretended he didn’t know anything about a will.

Grayson continued, “And I’ll bet you know how much is in Olivia’s trust, down to the last dollar.”

“Olivia was given more than Natalie because of her illness. At least, that’s what Natalie and I believe.”

“George, it’s time for you to leave,” Olivia said.

He didn’t protest. Once he had his coat on, he said, “You won’t talk to Emma?”

How many times did she have to say it? “No.”

She didn’t walk him to the door. Grayson did. After he locked it, he said, “What does your sister see in him?”

“You haven’t met my sister yet, have you? When you do, you’ll understand.”

“Understand what?”

“He’s perfect for her.”

“I see.”

She touched his arm. “I don’t think George would have harmed me, but I’m glad you were here.”

“Me too,” he said. He took her hand. “You know, if you need anything . . . that is, if you get scared or want to talk, you can call me.”

“I know,” she answered with a warm smile. “Thank you, Grayson. I don’t know that I could have handled all this without you.”

He looked away from her and didn’t say anything. He seemed preoccupied. “I should get going,” he said finally.

She watched him turn off the kitchen light and walk to the closet to get his coat . . . only, he didn’t get it. He pulled it off the hanger, then hung it back up. He stood there deep in thought for a few seconds, then he circled the living room and turned off all but one lamp. The room was cast in shadows. He stopped at the fireplace, picked up the remote from the mantel, and pushed the “on” button. Fire licked the logs, the gas feeding it until the flames were high.

The living room was warm and cozy now.

He silently watched the fire for a couple of minutes with his hands in his pockets, and then he began to walk back and forth, staring at the floor as though he were looking for answers to some unsettling question.

Olivia observed his peculiar behavior. She was getting a crick in her neck as he paced in front of her. She thought he might be trying to work something out about the investigation, or he was thinking about her lovely relatives perhaps, maybe even thanking God they weren’t in his family. He’d met only George. She wondered how he was going to react when he met the others. She should probably take his gun away before she introduced them.

“Grayson? What are you doing?” she asked, breaking the silence. She’d been sitting too long. She stood and stretched her arms over her head to get the stiffness out of her shoulders and immediately regretted the action. “Ouch,” she whispered, grimacing. Her shoulder and side were healing nicely, but stretching wasn’t such a good idea yet.

Grayson had stopped pacing. She looked up at him, and the intensity in his eyes made her breathless. She went to him. Stopping just a foot away, she faced him. “What’s going on?” she asked softly. “Tell me what you’re thinking about. Maybe I can help you.”

He almost laughed. “Yeah, okay. I’m thinking I’m not gonna be able to keep my hands off you much longer. Wanna help me with that?”

FOURTEEN

H
e’d rendered her speechless. Fortunately, the condition didn’t last long.

“I thought you were thinking about George.”

“Why would I be thinking about him?” he asked, clearly exasperated.

“Because he was just here,” she reminded. “And you’re angry.”

“I’m not angry.” His jaw was clenched, and he was frowning at her.

“Yes, you are . . . and so I assumed you were thinking about my brother-in-law. But you weren’t.”

“No.”

His eyes looked deeply into hers, and she suddenly realized what was going on inside him.

“You want me,” she said. It was a statement, not a question.

Her surprise irritated him. “Hell yes, I want you. And guess what, sweetheart. You want me, too.”

Her hands went to her hips. “You can’t know that.”

“Sure I can. Are you going to be honest with me and admit it?”

He took a step toward her. He was definitely trying to intimidate her, she thought, and she was having none of it. She stood her ground.

“That isn’t the question here.”

“Yes, it is.”

“There’s no need to raise your voice, Grayson.”

“You’re yelling, Olivia.”

She was having trouble catching her breath. She guessed grabbing her inhaler wouldn’t be very romantic, but then he was glaring at her now, and how romantic was that?

“Yes, I want you,” she admitted. “Does my honesty please you?” She wagged her finger at him. “It doesn’t matter, so tuck your ego away. I will not distract you, and having sex with you . . . Stop smiling. Having sex . . .”

“Will distract me?”

“Exactly so.”

Grayson wanted to take her into his arms and kiss every inch of her. God, she was beautiful and so damned passionate.

“You will get fired,” she said.

He had to force himself to pay attention. “I what?”

“Get fired.”

He shook his head. “No.”

“This isn’t funny, Grayson. You’ll get into trouble.”

He shook his head again. “I mean . . . if they found out . . . Oh, for the love of God, stop looking like you want to laugh. I’m thinking about you.”

“I’m thinking about you, too.”

He went back to the hearth, picked up the remote, and turned the gas off. The fire flickered and sputtered, then went out.

Olivia felt a stab of disappointment the second he turned away from her. Yet she was determined to help him make the right decision, no matter how it affected her.

“You have to think about this, base your decision on logic, not lust.”

Grayson turned around, and his eyes never left hers as he walked toward her. He stopped just inches away, and though he wanted to take her into his arms, he forced himself to wait. He needed to hear her say the words first.

“Do you want me to touch you, Olivia?”

His voice was gritty with emotion, and she could see the passion in his eyes. She knew she could end this now. She could lie and he would leave . . . except, she didn’t want him to leave, no matter how complicated it became. And so she simply gave him the truth. No coyness, no lies, no games. “Yes,” she whispered. “I do want you to touch me.”

“Now?”

She sighed. “Oh yes. Now.”

He reached for her, pulling her into his embrace. She wrapped her arms around his neck and began to place soft kisses along his jaw and the side of his neck. She teased his earlobe with her tongue and knew he liked what she was doing because he tightened his hold and pulled her against him.

He growled low in his throat as he roughly twisted her hair into his fist and jerked her head back. His open mouth came down on hers and his tongue sank inside to mate with hers. The scorching kiss went on and on until she was shaking with desire and could barely stand up. Her fingers slid into his hair, and she clung to him.

Panting, she stepped back. “Grayson.” His name was said with a groan.

He swept her up into his arms and carried her to her bedroom. She put her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. Her heart was racing; she couldn’t catch her breath, but all she could think about was touching him. She loved his scent, so earthy and clean and male. It made her want to get even closer to him.

Grayson lifted her chin so she’d look at him. “Are you sure? Your wounds—”

She silenced him by putting her finger on his lips. “I’m okay,” she said.

He slowly put her down, and she stepped back, her gaze locked on his as she began to unbutton her blouse. She was trembling so, she could barely get her fingers to work. He was quicker. In seconds he pulled off his sweater, then his T-shirt, and was bare-chested.

Her heart beat faster and faster. The dark hair sprinkling his bronzed skin tapered to a V at his waist. His upper arms and chest were all muscle. Grayson was one fit man. One perfect man.

She was suddenly feeling self-conscious.

“Let me,” Grayson said. He gently pushed her hands away and finished unbuttoning her blouse. Then he slid it down her arms.

Her bra was lacy and sexy as hell, her breasts full. Grayson reached for the clasp and removed the garment. It dropped to the floor. He was desperate to touch her. He slowly glided his fingers down to the small of her back. “You’re so soft everywhere, so beautiful.”

Olivia’s breasts rubbed against his chest, and an electric sensation coursed through her body. His skin was warm, his muscles hard beneath. She could feel his strength and power under her fingertips, and his dark curly chest hair tickled her breasts when she moved. The erotic feeling intensified when she put her arms around his neck and her breasts rubbed against him again.

Resting the side of her face against his chest, she could hear his pounding heart and knew he was as excited as she was. It had happened so quickly. She wanted to kiss him, to touch him everywhere.

He unbuttoned her jeans and pushed them to the floor so she could step out of them. When he slipped her panties down, she felt a tingle that started at her toes and shot up through her body. Olivia watched as he slipped out of his own clothes. He was so magnificent, so perfectly sculpted, like one of Michelangelo’s statues.

She pulled the covers back, and Grayson followed her down onto the sheets. He covered her with his body. Bracing his weight with his arms, he lifted up and stared into her eyes.

“You feel so good,” he told her.

He clasped the sides of her face and finally kissed her. He wasn’t gentle. His mouth took possession of hers, his tongue forcing her to respond. He couldn’t get enough of her.

The kiss went on and on until Olivia was burning in every cell of her body. Her fingers glided over his hot skin, caressing his shoulders and his back while her hips moved erotically against his hard arousal.

Grayson ended the kiss and looked at her. He could see the passion and knew she wanted him as much as he wanted her. He kissed her again, then moved slowly down her body. His lips gently nibbled on her neck and the valley between her breasts.

His thumbs brushed across her nipples, once, then again. Her body responded by arching against him, and she moaned softly, telling him without words how much she liked his touch. He began to caress her breasts, then leaned down and took one nipple into his mouth, sucking hard. She cried out and moved restlessly against him. She couldn’t keep still. Her hands stroked his shoulders, and she shifted under him until she was cuddling his arousal and forcefully moving against him. Her toes rubbed against his legs. His skin was hot, and she could feel his strength, but it didn’t overwhelm her, for he was being so incredibly gentle, so loving.

His hands were everywhere, stroking, teasing. He was gentle and rough, and he was driving her wild. She wanted to make him as crazed as she was. Her hands slid down between their bodies, and she caressed his arousal. She knew he liked that because he groaned and tightened all around her. He couldn’t take the torment long. His mouth claimed hers again in a hot, wet kiss that ignited the fire inside her.

She arched up against him. “Now, Grayson,” she demanded. She was close to screaming if he didn’t end the teasing and come to her.

He moved between her thighs and looked deeply into her eyes. When he thrust inside, he was immediately surrounded by liquid heat. She was so tight, so perfect for him. She drew her legs up to take more of him, and he groaned again. He began to move, slowly at first, and then with growing need. Losing all control, his mind was consumed with finding release for both of them. It was a blissful, pulsating torture as he reached higher and higher peaks of ecstasy. She dug her nails into his shoulders and arched up against him each time he withdrew, quickening the pace. Suddenly, she tightened and squeezed him, crying out his name with her climax. He couldn’t stop his own release. He held her in his arms while he lost himself in her.

Her orgasm overwhelmed her, consumed her. The world seemed to splinter into a million brilliant stars, and she felt as though she had skyrocketed to the heavens and was slowly floating back to Earth. She was stunned by the intensity. She had never lost control like this, and it was terrifying. Yet Grayson had held her, whispered to her, telling her she could let go, she could trust him. And, oh God, how she did.

“Wow.”

One word, that was all, but it was enough to tell her how pleased and satisfied he was. She recovered before he did. His breathing was still harsh, and she could feel his heart racing. Then she realized she was having just as much trouble. She was still tingling everywhere and continuing to stroke his back and his shoulders.

Grayson lifted his head and smiled at her. She looked properly ravaged, and that gave him an arrogant satisfaction. Her lips were red, and he could see the passion still there in her beautiful eyes.

“I love your mouth,” he whispered before he kissed her again.

Realizing he was probably crushing her, he gathered enough strength to roll away from her. He lay on his back and took a deep breath. He was amazed it was taking him so long to clear his mind. Making love to Olivia was nothing like he’d ever experienced before. It was different.
She
was different.

“You said, ‘Wow.’”

He could hear the laughter in her comment. He rolled to his side, propped his head with his arm and said, “No, I didn’t.”

Her eyes were closed, but she was smiling. “Oh, but you did, Agent Kincaid. You said, ‘Wow.’ Is that your sweet talk?”

“Did you want sweet talk?”

“No. ‘Wow’ pretty much said it all.”

He trailed his fingers from her neck to her stomach. “You screamed my name.”

“I didn’t scream.”

“Oh, but you did, Miss MacKenzie.”

His mood darkened in the space of a heartbeat. He stared at the scar from the bullet wound on her shoulder and was suddenly enraged. He wanted to kill the man who had hurt her and hoped he got the chance. She was lucky, the surgeon had told him. Both the injury to her shoulder and her side were considered minor. The bullets had gone straight through and hadn’t hit anything vital. The hip was more serious because the bullet had lodged in bone.

“Does this still hurt?” he asked as he gently traced a circle around her shoulder.

“No.”

“What about this?” He circled the small, raw wound on the side of her waist.

Olivia shivered. He was giving her goose bumps. “No.”

He touched her hip. “And this?”

“Better,” she admitted.

“What about your throat?”

She frowned. “What about it?”

“Does it hurt from screaming?”

She smiled. “I did not scream.”

“Only one way to prove it,” he told her.

Suspicious, she asked, “How?”

He pulled her into his arms. “I gotta make you scream again.”

* * *

Olivia was curled up against his side sound asleep. Grayson wasn’t going to spend the night, but he was too comfortable and content to move. He decided he would call Ronan tomorrow and remove himself from the case. He’d still follow what was being done, might even make a couple of suggestions here and there, but that was all. He couldn’t sleep with Olivia again and run the investigation at the same time. Actually, he supposed he could; he just wasn’t going to.

Maybe he’d stay with Olivia until early morning after all. He’d get up at five and leave. Yeah, that’s what he would do. He pulled the covers up and yawned loudly. Olivia scooted closer and put her head on his shoulder.

He had made her scream twice, and he was damned proud of that accomplishment. He was thinking about how aggressive she had become after her second orgasm. She’d pushed him onto his back and proceeded to drive him crazy with her hands and her mouth and her tongue. Her enthusiasm staggered him. He realized he was getting hard again, and was seriously thinking about waking her up, when his cell phone rang. He gently lifted her off him, grabbed his phone from the bedside table where he’d put his gun and holster, and answered.

Henry was calling. “Uncle Grayson. I think I’m sick. Can you come get me?”

Grayson sat up. He heard the worry in Henry’s voice but didn’t ask for an explanation because he knew what was wrong. Henry was homesick. As much as the boy wanted to sleep over with friends, he couldn’t seem to get through an entire night. Grayson had thought about Henry around ten o’clock, and when he didn’t call, he had thought Henry had finally gotten over his problem.

He was getting better, though. He’d made it until eleven thirty this time.

“It’s okay. I’ll come get you.”

After he’d dressed, he kissed Olivia on the forehead and nudged her.

“I’ve got to go. You’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” she told him. “Good night.”

She disappeared under the covers. He stood there for a minute and then began to laugh. Had he been wanting some praise or a testimonial about their time together, he would have been disappointed. Apparently she wasn’t much for sweet talk either.