The Black Sheep and the Hidden Beauty (31 page)

He wanted to treat her fairly, and with respect, but dammit, he hated this, hated her being tortured. He turned her into his arms, pulling her tight whether she wanted to be held or not. Maybe he needed to hold on as much as she needed someone to hold on to. She wasn't crying. The trembling was induced from sheer terror. Her eyes were enormous when she looked up into his.

“Springer—would someone…would they—”

“She's carrying the golden goose. I think she's probably the safest part of this whole ordeal.”

“I—I don't understand any of this. I don't know who would do something like that. My God, they shot someone. Killed someone.” She tried to break free. “I don't care how much the baby is worth, and you know I'd lay my life down for her, but to kill someone? That's crazy. This whole thing is crazy. They can just have the damn baby. I never wanted to profit from this, I just didn't want to lose my horse. I wanted to make sure she'd be safe. Why didn't whoever is doing this just come find me and tell me they knew, demand I give the baby to them? Not do this. Never do…Jesus, Rafe, who would do this?”

He turned her chin with his hand so she had to keep her gaze focused on him. “A desperate person. A greedy person. You'd be surprised the lengths people will go to, to get what they want.”

“How do we get out of this? How do we make it stop? Do we need to go to the police? Tell them what we know?”

She was digging her fingers into his shoulders, shaking him, as if rattling him would force a solution to their rapidly growing set of problems.

“There are no fast solutions here. And we would be handing the police more questions than answers at this point. I don't see how they could be effective right now. We don't know all the players yet, but we're working on it and we know a hell of a lot more than anyone else.” Plus, what he didn't say, was that the police could easily pull one or both of them in for extensive questioning, which would be highly likely given their involvement, and take them both out of the picture for God knew how long. “Mac is heading back to Kenny's to see if he missed anything, and to be there in case anyone else comes calling.”

“You think he might come back? He didn't just take Springer, he took all of his horses. And who is helping him? We never talked about that. He doesn't have a rig big enough for all of them.”

“I don't know. Whoever wanted Springer, I suppose.”

“We can't just sit here. We have to do something.”

“Right now, this is the safest place for you. I need to do some digging myself, on all the players, but you running around the countryside isn't going to help, and potentially only puts you at risk. The only places we could be looking would be Kenny's place and Charlotte Oaks.” He stopped her before she could say anything. “Mac is sending someone down there, but we're not sending them in until we know what we're sending them into.”

“I should be the one to go down there. Or to Kenny's. Anywhere but here. I can't let everyone else run around at my expense while I do nothing. Besides, if one of your own men got involved, who's to say I'm not at risk here? Or that you're not?”

“The staff has been excused for the evening. Mac took care of that. No one is in the main house, and this one is secure. The main entrance is closed.”

“What about Kate's instructors and—”

“The ones who don't live on the property will go out the separate entrance for her school. Which is also being monitored. No one goes in or out without approval from Kate.” He gentled his grip. “You're safer here than anywhere else at the moment. Springer is most likely being very well taken care of.”

“The stress alone—what if she goes into early labor? What if—”

“I know it's hard, but you can't let yourself go there. If Kenny is with her, regardless of why, then she's in good hands.”

Elena's eyes widened. “That's it! That's why they wanted him. They're blackmailing him, or forcing him to attend the birth. Maybe they know her history, or maybe they just want to make sure nothing goes wrong with Geronimo's only offspring. That would explain everything.”

“Except why they took him, Springer, and every other horse on his property.”

She swore. “I know, I know. I can't figure that out, either, but I just can't see him doing this. I've thought and thought about it, all the way back here, and I swear I'm being as objective as I can be. He wouldn't, Rafe. Not this. Not to me, not to anyone. He just…it's not who he is any more than it's who I am. For any price.”

“Don't take this the wrong way, but you were pushed to do something you'd never otherwise do when this situation happened. Who knows what he's facing?”

She blanched and looked away. “Point taken.”

He lifted her chin with his fingertips. “I'm not saying he's dirty, but we have to keep all options open.”

She looked into his eyes for the longest time, then gathered herself and said, “I know. I do. But you've talked a lot about gut instincts. That's why I told you what I did. It's why I've told you anything, ever. My gut says I can trust you. Just like my gut says I'm right about Kenny. I won't shut down possibilities, but I won't believe it's true until I see some proof.”

“Is that what you've told yourself about me? Trustworthy until proven otherwise?”

“No, I looked at the man you are, with the deep bonds you have, and what they will do for you, and you for them. And what you were all willing to do for me, because it's what you thought was right. That's the only measure I needed.”

He took her mouth. Right then. No preamble, no slow lowering of his lips to hers, no choice given. Just a choice made.

The surprise of it kept her still, but only for a second. He mentally braced himself for her to shove at him. He'd have respected that, backed away, though it would have cost him. He knew then how well and truly entangled he'd become. It had never been like this for him. Almost irrational. He relied on instinct, on rational thought. Not on emotion and his hard-on. Or his heart. Life wasn't set up to be fair about those things, and he'd had enough of the unfair part of life.

Then she moaned, just a little guttural sound in the back of her throat. And her hands came up to fist in his hair as she pulled his mouth down even harder on hers. And kissed him back with every ounce of intensity she had in her.

And he knew there was no protecting himself from this. Or from her. Nor did he want there to be.

E
lena was so tempted to sink into that blissful oblivion only he could provide. Escape the overwhelming worry and fear, even if only for a few moments. But, in the end, even Rafe couldn't transport her, and their kiss eased from the powerful thunder she was already coming to crave, to something quieter, and yet perhaps even more compelling in the way it nurtured something else inside her. And that something was hope.

When he lifted his head and looked into her eyes, she said, “We're going to find her.”

He nodded.

“And we're going to figure this out.”

He nodded again, then took her hand and drew her with him as he walked across the main room and through a sliding partition that sectioned off what turned out to be a small office. Through another sliding screen, she could see his bedroom, and the oversized bed, sitting low to the floor in a teakwood box frame. A detailed latticework headboard, gorgeous wall murals, and sumptuous-looking pillows in decadent jeweled silks combined to make his bedroom look like a combination of crisp Asian beauty and extravagant Arabic splendor. She didn't dare let her gaze linger there, because it made her want things she couldn't have. Not now.

She thought about what he'd said, about wanting to know what came next with them. It was a seductive thought, and one she couldn't afford at the moment.

Her attention was pulled away when he tugged her over to his desk. What his bedroom was in sensuality, his office was in functionality. Nothing like the warm tones and softly tooled leathers of his main house office, this one was more track-lit, high tech, smooth grays and stealth black, like a compact space station.

“Wow,” she said, turning around and looking at all the equipment packed perfectly into the specially designed series of shelves and cubicles.

Rafe slid into a sleek, black leather-and-chrome desk chair and began tapping keys on a curved, consolelike keyboard. A flat screen mounted on the wall in front of him sprang to life. He motioned to a pod-shaped scoop of black padded leather that was tucked into a side corner. “You should make yourself comfortable—this could take a while.”

“What is the game plan?” she asked, still nosing about.

“It's getting late in the day. Mac is on his way to Kenny's—we've got someone heading down to Charlotte Oaks. They'll stand by until given directions. With Aaron's disappearance, we're not going to show our hand again until we know more of what is going on.”

“And how are we going to figure that out?”

“I'm going to start an in-depth search on Johansson.” He glanced at her. “And Kenny.”

She nodded. “I understand and I agree. If for no other reason than to eliminate him as a suspect.”

Rafe merely nodded in return and went back to his console.

Elena paced.

“There is a galley kitchen on the other side of the main room if you're hungry. I'd have something sent over from the main house, but—”

“I know. I can't eat.”

“You should. We probably both should. It's been a long day and it's likely we're in for another one.” He glanced over at her. “Other than gathering information, there isn't much more we can do tonight.”

“I won't be able to sleep.”

“She'll be okay, Elena.”

“Nothing is okay. Nothing is remotely okay.”

He paused and swiveled his chair so he could face her. “I know. But sleepless and weakened isn't a good place to be, either. Think of it as doing what you can for her by taking care of yourself. It won't happen tonight, but it will happen soon.”

“What if we don't find anything? What if Kenny's background doesn't reveal anything, and Johansson is a dead end?” She flinched a little as the double meaning of her words played back in her head.

Rafe suddenly turned back to the console and tapped a few keys.

“What? What did I say?”

Mac's voice came through a speaker somewhere a moment later.

“What's up?”

“I'm just starting the research, but it occurred to me that maybe we should have someone tag along with Johansson's body. See who else might be nosing around, asking questions.”

“One step ahead of you. I took care of that before leaving the scene.”

“Keep me informed. I don't care what time it is.”

“Will do.”

He disconnected and shifted his attention back to her. “I might be at this for hours. I know you're going crazy with nothing to do, but I want you to stay here. With me. Tonight. It's the safest place for you…and I want you here.”

She hadn't thought that far ahead, and her gaze went to his bedroom before she could stop it.

“I don't have a spare bedroom, but I honestly want you next to me. I'll stay more focused, rest better, if you're right there.” He waited until she looked back to him. “Are you okay with that?”

Considering she was torn between the need to go leap in the nearest vehicle and go somewhere, anywhere, to start looking for Springer…and the need to go curl up in his lap and beg him to tell her he was going to find them some answers…his request was an easy one. “I'm very okay with that.”

His lips curved just a little, but his gaze remained serious. “Good.” For a moment she thought he was going to say more, but instead he turned back to his console and went back to work.

She paced some more, but he had a point—it wasn't serving to calm her, it just made her worry more with each path she wore in his rug. She had to find something to keep herself occupied. She wasn't remotely hungry, but maybe fixing him something to eat, or at least a pot of coffee to sustain them over the next who-knew-how-many hours, would be a start.

“Do you have a coffeemaker?”

“With my own grinder,” he said, not looking up. “And yes, I would dearly love some.”

“Then I'll see what I can do.”

She went to slip through the screened panels, when he called her name. She turned back. “What? You take it black? Or do you have some complicated recipe you want me to follow?”

He pushed back and stood up, walked over to her, but rather than draw her into his arms, he simply reached out and cupped her cheek. “Thank you.”

“I should be the one doing the thanking. I'm feeling rather useless at the moment. The least I can do is make coffee.”

“I meant—”

“I know,” she said quietly, putting off whatever he'd been about to say. She was too close to being undone by the day's events. She couldn't handle much more, even if it was something meant to make her feel good. Her emotions were barely restrained beneath the surface as it was. “Let me—I need to—”

He dropped his hand. “I know.”

She nodded, silently thanking him. He did, indeed, get her. A rather profound gift, that. She slipped through the screens and wandered in search of the kitchen, fighting off tears of exhaustion while admitting she couldn't imagine getting through this without him.

 

Hours passed and midnight came and went, with disheartening results. She'd made some soup in addition to coffee and they'd both managed a bowl and several cups, but their rejuvenating effects had long since worn off. Fatigue was rapidly replacing worry, and her eyelids were drooping as she sat on her perch in his office chair where she'd finally retreated an hour earlier.

It was the cessation of tapping fingers and a muttered oath that had her eyes fluttering open. “What? What did you find?” she asked, shaking off the cobwebs, or trying to.

“Nothing. That's the problem.”

He'd finished digging on Kenny a while back, with nothing out of the ordinary coming from his search. The search on Johansson had revealed that he'd had a spotty work record and held a private investigator's license in addition to being bonded to do work for Intrepid. Though he'd portrayed himself as an insurance investigator, Rafe had wondered in what capacity he'd truly been hired, given how things had gone. They'd had less luck digging up any information on any past clients he might have worked for privately. And the lateness of the hour precluded him from pulling more strings and garnering a few favors from well-placed insiders.

Calls to Mac had also not brought any enlightenment, as no one had shown up to snoop there, and his more exhaustive investigation of the property had yielded no new clues. He planned to do more once the sun came up, but at the moment, they were all pretty disheartened.

Silence from Aaron, Kenny, and no new information coming from the morgue completed their disgust and discouragement.

Rafe tapped a few more keys, and the screen went blank and the banked lights beneath his shelves winked out. He pushed back and stood, groaning a little as he arched his back.

She started to climb out of the concave-shaped chair, but he stepped over and offered a hand before she could stand.

He gently pulled her to her feet, then caught her against him as she wavered slightly. “We need some sleep. We'll tackle this again tomorrow.”

She nodded, not trusting herself to say anything lest she break down completely. She didn't want to feel hopeless, but nothing, not one tiny thing, had gone their way tonight. She was thankful that nothing obvious had popped up on Kenny, but beyond that, the night had been a complete zero.

Rafe wrapped his arms around her and held her for a moment, hugging her and accepting her arms snaking around his waist with a deep sigh and a kiss to her temple. “Let's go to bed.”

He kept her tucked to his side, and they turned toward the screened panels that led to his bedroom. Any other time in her life, this moment would have filled her with anticipation and the kind of pulse-accelerating excitement she could only have dreamed about. Now, all she could think about was getting some rest, and praying to God she could sleep without the dreams haunting her.
Not tonight
, she prayed.

Once in his room, he opened a panel next to the door and pushed a series of buttons. Lights throughout the pool house dimmed and a soft voice said, “Security, activated.”

Elena lifted her head from his shoulder, but said nothing about the state-of-the-art system. Frankly, it didn't surprise her, and knowing it was there made her feel safer.

“There is a bathroom through there,” he said, motioning to the opposite corner. “I'll grab you one of my t-shirts if you'd like.”

“I'd like,” was all she said. “Will I set off an alarm if I get up and wander to the kitchen in the middle of the night?”

“It already is the middle of the night. But no, the system keeps unwanted intruders out, it doesn't trap you in.”

She gave a shaky sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

“Thank Mac. He designed it. I only wish I could be doing more.”

“You're doing an amazing amount,” she told him, never more honest. “It's at least eliminating suspicion and telling us we need to look in a new direction.”

He shuffled her toward the bed and quietly popped the clasps of her overalls. “In the morning.”

She could only nod as he let the bib panel fall forward and undid the buttons at her hips. She stepped out of the pool of worn denim, left only in her long underwear shirt and panties. It seemed like three lifetimes ago that she'd dressed and met him for an early morning class that had ended with an almost-tryst in the tack room.

Her thoughts drifted there and clung to those moments like a lifeline, helping her to block out the reality of the moment and spend some time in another place. A place where people weren't being shot dead and her beloved horse and family friend weren't in danger.

She tugged his shirt loose and lifted it over his head. He raised his arms, accommodating her, and soon she had his bare chest at her disposal. To do with what she wanted.

And, beyond the bone-deep fatigue, beyond the sheer terror and almost debilitating fear…there was a wealth of desire.

In some recess of her mind, she wondered if this was what they meant by life-threatening situations acting like some kind of sudden aphrodisiac. Her sudden voracious hunger for him was limited only by her lack of available energy. So she took it slow. Sweetly, deliciously slow.

He'd tasted her, taunted her, teased her, on several occasions. Now it was her turn.

Her entire world narrowed down to the smooth expanse of honeyed skin wrapped oh-so-tautly across his chest. She dipped her head and drew her tongue slowly from his collarbone down the valley between his pecs, and then teased her way over to his nipple.

He drew in a sharp breath when she flicked her tongue across the sensitive tip. His hands came up to her hair, which he slowly unwove from its heavy braid as she continued her exploration.

“Elena,” he said, his voice barely more than a rough whisper.

“Rafe,” she said, making his name a vow.

He cupped her head and slowly drew her mouth up to his, his eyes on hers as their lips met.