The Angel (The Original Sinners) (25 page)

Suzanne swallowed and felt the pressure of his thumb on her
neck.

Was she willing to pay? She had no doubt in her mind what form
of currency he traded in. Apart from Father Stearns, from Søren, she’d never
seen a more alluring man in her life. Everything about him…his clothes, his
sensual mouth, his voice and that accent…in truth, it wasn’t such a terrible
price to pay. Even without the promise of answers, she would be tempted....

“I wanted to believe there was one good priest in this world,”
she whispered. “But if he—”

“He is a good priest. And a good man. And I can supply the
proof you need of it. If that is what you wish.”

Finally Suzanne nodded.

“Yes, it is.”

“Then come with me.”

Kingsley held out his hand and Suzanne took it with more fear
than she’d ever felt on a battlefield. He started off and took her out of the
bedroom and down the hall.

“Where are we going?” She’d thought he’d take her in Father
Stearns’s bed or even on the floor, but they seemed to be leaving the house.

“Manhattan. I have something to give you…if you earn it.”

They left the house and he guided her around the back where a
Rolls Royce waited. A beautiful young woman in a chauffeur’s uniform hopped out
of the car and with a sprightly step opened the back door for them. Kingsley
entered first and Suzanne followed, already regretting it.

“But I’ve got my car. Well, Patrick’s car.”

“I’ll have it returned to Patrick. He’s still in the Village,
oui?
”

“Jesus, you do know everything about me.”

Kingsley smiled again as the car started and pulled out onto
the road.

“Not quite.” He cupped the side of her face and brushed her
lips with his thumb. “I don’t know what sounds you make when you come. Let’s
find that out, shall we?”

Before she could answer, Kingsley leaned forward and pressed
his mouth to hers. He did nothing at first, merely waited on her. Suzanne told
herself she was doing this for Adam…before slowly parting her lips. Closing her
eyes, she let Kingsley take over the kiss. His hand twined in her hair. He held
her neck firmly as if to remind her she belonged to him now and could not
escape. As his tongue touched the tip of hers, her desire to escape died and the
need to surrender was born. And she wasn’t doing this for Adam or Father
Stearns. She wanted Kingsley. She would do this for her.

“Tell me, Suzanne, have you ever had sex in the back of a Rolls
Royce?”

Kingsley didn’t wait for her to answer. He pushed her onto her
back as he pulled her legs apart and rested his hips hard against hers.
Oh, God,
she thought,
this is
really happening.
With deft fingers, he unbuttoned her blouse and
opened it. He kissed his way from her neck to her navel and up again.

She closed her eyes and let the sensation of a stranger’s hands
on her body wash over her. Not just any stranger, she reminded herself. This was
Kingsley Edge, the bogeyman who kept even the most hardened of investigative
reporters up at night. And now she was one of them. One of the reporters
Kingsley Edge kept up all night.

“Don’t pretend you aren’t enjoying this,” Kingsley whispered in
her ear. “I know you’re trying not to enjoy this.”

“I’m doing this for information, not pleasure.”

“Liar.”

Suzanne blushed at the truth in his accusation.

Kingsley nipped at her ear, her shoulder. His teeth on her skin
sent shock waves of pleasure into her stomach.

“Even when I’m bending my secretary over my desk, I make sure
she enjoys it. I’ll see that you enjoy it too, whether you want to or not.”

Before Suzanne could make another protest, Kingsley pulled up
and away from her. She started to ask what he was doing but then she saw. He
left the luxurious leather of the bench seat in the Rolls Royce and knelt on the
floorboard. He snapped his fingers and gestured her to sit in front of him.

Suzanne slid to the center of the seat. Kingsley reached under
her skirt, grasped her panties and dragged them roughly down her legs. She
wanted to tell him to stop but the promise of so much information about Father
Stearns kept her quiet even as Kingsley opened his pants.

He pushed her legs wide and shoved two fingers into her.
Wincing, she fought the urge to close her legs.

“Breathe,
chérie
. I promise you
will like this if you let yourself.” He took his fingers out of her and gazed up
at her. In the dark of the night, she could barely see him except when the car
passed a streetlamp.

With one pull he brought her hips to the very edge of the seat.
Again with his fingers he parted her outer and inner lips. He brought his mouth
down on her and sucked lightly on her clitoris. Suzanne dug her fingers into the
supple leather of the seat as her head fell back.

Up and down the length of her vagina he licked her, teased her
with his tongue and lips. Suzanne quickly found herself opening her legs a
little wider and pushing her hips forward. His tongue delved deeper until she
felt he sought the very core of her. His hands gripped her thighs and Suzanne
twined her hand into his hair. Underneath her the car vibrated from the roar of
the heavy engine. Her entire body vibrated from what Kingsley was doing to her.
The pressure built in her lower back. She leaned back into the seat, grabbed the
headrest behind her and came with a low, almost pained grunt.

Before she could even catch her breath, she heard the
unmistakable sound of a condom wrapper opening.

“Wait,” she panted but Kingsley only pulled her down off the
seat and onto him, impaling her. He’d made her so wet that she took every inch
of him inside her in one stroke.

“God—” she gasped as her body strained to accept all of
him.

“I said you could call me Kingsley,” he whispered into her
ear.

Suzanne couldn’t help but laugh.

“You must be the most arrogant man alive.” She wrapped her arms
around his back for stability as he grasped her by the hips and started slowly
thrusting up and into her.

“Only the second. You’ve met the first.”

She shook her head and started to speak. But Kingsley found her
clitoris with the tips of his fingers and rendered her momentarily
speechless.

As he nibbled at her lips, her neck and shoulders, Suzanne
could only hold one thought in her addled mind. She was being fucked by Kingsley
Edge. The one and only Kingsley Edge.

And she was enjoying the hell out of it.

Kneeling on his lap, she moved her hips forward and back in
time with his precision movements. Everything he did sent currents of heat and
electricity surging through her whole body. She came close to another climax but
Kingsley stopped her with a kiss.

“Turn around,” he said into her ear as his left hand did
marvelous things to her right nipple.

Nodding, Suzanne lifted herself up and turned her back to him.
He pressed in close to her back and bit her shoulder hard enough she winced.

“How much do you want to know about
le
prêtre?
” He pushed three fingers into her from behind and Suzanne
inhaled sharply at the sudden shock of pleasure.

“Everything.” She parted her thighs even more and pushed back
into his hand. A fourth finger joined the others. She’d never felt so open
before. God, the man knew what he was doing.

“You will never know everything about him. Not if you searched
the world until the end of time.” He pulled his hand out and slowly penetrated
her again. He sunk in deep and Suzanne moaned audibly from the incredible
sensation of him filling her so completely. “But I can only tell you what I know
if you tell me one thing,
ma chérie…
”

He started to thrust again, hard this time, viciously hard.
Suzanne grabbed the door, the seat, anything to hold her steady as he used her
body so thoroughly. She couldn’t believe how much she loved this, loved being
taken like this.... Kingsley found her clitoris again and as he pushed into her
she came again with a loud cry as pain-sharp pleasure exploded in her back and
hips. Kingsley thrust a few more times before coming with a shudder that shook
them both.

Kingsley lingered inside her a moment as they both caught their
breath.

“What?” she panted. “What do I have to tell you before you’ll
tell me about him?”

Kingsley kissed her hair, the tip of her ear as he continued to
pulse inside her. She could get used to erotic attention like this.

“Tell me—” he pushed into her once more “—why you want to
know.”

“I…” Why did she want to know? Was it still about Adam? Would
Adam be happy she was doing this? Proud? For one moment she was glad he was gone
so he couldn’t see what kind of person she’d become, what she’d do in pursuit of
a story. “I don’t know,” she confessed. “I just have to know. I have to. If he’s
hurting children—”

Kingsley pulled out of her so quickly she winced. He
straightened his clothes and threw himself across the length of the bench seat
and crossed his feet at the ankles. Suzanne felt suddenly embarrassed and
ashamed of her half-naked state. In the dark she found her panties, buttoned her
blouse and sat gingerly on the seat across from him.

“He does not hurt children,” Kingsley said in a voice as cold
as winter, as sharp as a knife. “Eleanor Schreiber was never his victim. And for
the record, she was never really a child. I’ve known her almost as long as he
has.”

“So what? She was a flirt as a teenager? So she deserved to be
seduced by an older man? By her priest?”

“Nora Sutherlin, Eleanor Schreiber, whatever you call her or
however you know her…you must know one and only thing about her. She seduces.
She does not get seduced.”

Suzanne took a deep breath and met his eyes in the dark.

“I don’t know why I need to know. But I have to. He…” She
stopped speaking and searched for the words, any words, to explain what she
felt, what she wanted. “I believed in him like I once believed in God. I don’t
want to believe in either of them…unless I should.”

Kingsley exhaled heavily as he pulled a booted leg into his
chest and draped his arm over it casually.

“To believe or not to believe…only you can answer that question
for yourself,” he said as the Rolls pulled in front of an elegant
black-and-white town house. “But I can help you on your quest. I can point you
in the right direction at least. Come.”

The door opened and Kingsley left the car. She smoothed her
blouse and skirt and followed him through a wrought-iron gate and up the
stairs.

As they hit the third floor, the most stunningly beautiful
woman Suzanne had ever seen in her life appeared with a cup of tea in her hand
and a smile on her face. Almost as tall as Kingsley with ebony skin, charcoal
eyes and a playful smile on her full lips, the woman seemed both graceful and
severe to Suzanne.

“Aah…my Jules. I’ve missed you,” Kingsley said as he saluted
the woman on each cheek with a kiss. “This is Suzanne Kanter, a reporter friend
of mine.”

“Bonjour, mademoiselle. Tea?” the woman who Suzanne surmised
must be Juliette, Kingsley’s private secretary, asked. Like Kingsley, she too
spoke with a rich accent. But Juliette’s sounded different, more Caribbean. She
must be from Haiti, Suzanne decided, recognizing the accent. A black Haitian
woman working for a rich, white, French man.... Kingsley really was the most
arrogant man alive.

“She can’t stay.” Kingsley took a sip of his own tea. “She’s
merely here for a file.”

“Which one, monsieur?” Juliette asked. “I’ll fetch it.”

“The mistress…her medical file.”

Juliette’s dark eyes went wide for the barest hint of a second
before she composed her face once more into the mask of the perfect submissive
secretary.

“
Oui,
monsieur.”

While Juliette disappeared into a room, Suzanne looked around.
So strange. Kingsley’s headquarters seemed as if they’d been transported from
another place, another time. She saw huge black rotary phones on the large art
deco desks. Wooden filing cabinets, Tiffany lamps…and no computers in sight.

“Such a Luddite,” Suzanne said, taking it all in.

“I’m simply old-fashioned,” Kingsley said with a wicked glint
in his eyes.

Juliette returned with a thick black file folder fastened with
a burgundy ribbon. Kingsley held it out and Suzanne reached for it, but he
pulled it back to his chest.

“For you and you only, mademoiselle, I had a dear friend of
mine send this to me. You will be allowed to keep this file for one day. It must
be returned to me by this time tomorrow night. Nothing in this file can be
recorded or photocopied in any way. No one but you may look at it. I will know
if you have disobeyed any of these conditions. The consequences for disobedience
will be severe. Do you understand me?”

Kingsley said the words with a conversational air but the
threat in them was unmistakable.

“Yes, sir,” she said.
“Je
comprends.”

Kingsley raised his eyebrow at her before passing her the
file.

“Now I’ll have my driver take you home.”

Suzanne headed down the stairs and Kingsley followed. Not
twenty minutes ago, he’d been buried inside her body. Now he barely spoke to
her, although she saw him watching her out of the corner of her eyes. On the
first-floor landing he stopped and gestured for her to go on without him.

“Good night,” she said, clutching the file to her chest. “I’ll
drop this off tomorrow, I promise.”

“Bon.”
He nodded.

Apparently good-night kisses wouldn’t be forthcoming. Suzanne
nodded back and headed toward the front door where Kingsley’s chauffeur waited
in silence.

The chauffeur opened the door.

“Mademoiselle?” Kingsley called out and Suzanne turned around
and looked up at him. “One more piece of advice on your quest.”