There Goes the Groom (16 page)

He hesitated as she reached for his shirt, but she pressed her lips to his chest again, then trailed heady tongue lashes down his torso until he thought he would go out of his mind.

Hunger spiraled through him, the need to take her spiking his adrenaline, and he yanked off his shirt, then raked his fingers over her nipples again, smiling as she purred his name.

“Cade …”

“Yes, sweetheart, I’m here.” Her eyes met his, doubts mingling with pain.

He wanted to erase that hurt from her eyes. Destroy any memory of Paul Pendergrass’s touch.

Make her his.

Primitive instincts surged through him, and he pushed her onto the bed. Her hair tumbled wildly around her bare shoulders, a picture of decadence that made his body harden and ache.

Then she licked those delicious lips like he’d seen her do a dozen times, and he dumped his gun, handcuffs, phone and wallet onto the nightstand. A second later, he shrugged off his jeans and socks and reached for her pants. For a fraction of a second, a shy look passed over her face, endearing him more.

But a vixen lay beneath the surface, a woman who breathed life in the air around her with her sexy smiles and laughter.

Only she hadn’t been laughing lately.

He was going to change all that.

Slowly he peeled off her jeans, his breath catching at the sight of her curves encased in sheer black lace. The tattoo he’d seen before tempted him now, and he planted a kiss on it, earning a giggle from Marci.

“That tickles,” she whispered.

“How about this?” he said as he stretched out on top of her and stroked her body with his.

“That feels delicious,” she murmured.

A throaty laugh rumbled from his chest, then he looked down into her eyes and saw the same desire he felt for her mirrored in the depths. His heart hammered out of control.

He wanted her now. Tomorrow.

Maybe always.

Fear shot through him at the thought. He was not a one-woman kind of man.

But she licked at his ear, and he forgot about his reservations. Too many titillating sensations were assaulting him.

He kissed her again, this time so deeply she stroked his calf with her foot, arching her body into him. His sex surged toward her, throbbing to be inside her, but he wanted to pleasure her first.

So he trailed a path of kisses down to her breasts, then suckled each one until she cried out his name and begged him to take her.

Even then he made her wait, extended the torture. He parted her legs with his knee then crawled between her thighs and tasted her.

“Cade…” Marci groaned.

The heat in his body intensified as he licked and stroked her damp center. And when he felt her warm sweet honey fill his mouth, and she cried out his name again, he grabbed a condom from his wallet, rolled it on, rose above her and thrust inside her.

Marci’s body clenched his in a mindboggling orgasm, and he pumped inside her, over and over, deeper and harder, creating a frenetic rhythm as they rode the waves of pleasure together.

*~*~*~*

Marci woke to moonlight still shimmering through the window.  Her body was achy and sore but still singing from their lovemaking.

She certainly hadn’t had to draw Cade a map to her g-spot. He had found it the first time.

His erection had lasted more than four minutes, too.

In fact, he had gone for hours and hours…

She rolled over to kiss him again and ask for an encore, but the bed beside her was empty.  Missing Cade already, she pushed her tousled hair from her eyes and blinked, searching the room.

Then she saw him leaning against the window. He was looking at his phone, his brows furrowed.

Something was wrong.

“What is it?” she asked. “Did they catch Paul?”

His gaze flew to hers, the passion gone. Instead, the hard cop was back. And this time he looked furious.

“You tell me, Marci.”

Her heart stuttered at his cold tone.  “What?”

He strode over to her, then jammed the phone in front of her.

Marci gaped in shock at the picture on his screen.

“I don’t understand,” she whispered.

“Stop it with the little coy act, Marci. You’ve been lying to me all along. You played me for a fool.”

Marci shook her head in denial.  “No, that’s not true, Cade – ”

“Don’t bother to defend yourself. That man we talked about last night, Harvey Tuckman has a new alias; Sebastian Zuckerman. He’s the man we believe is Pendergrass’s partner. You told me you didn’t know him.” He tapped the screen. “But there you are, Marci. Having dinner with him, all cozy.” He clicked to reveal another shot, and her throat closed.

“Jesus, I can’t believe I fell for you. You’re just as good a con man as Pendergrass.” He wiped sweat from his forehead. “Were you sleeping with both of them, the three of you working together?”

A myriad of emotions bombarded her -- confusion, hurt, worry, anger.

She flew off the bed, shoved him so hard he fell onto the mattress, then grabbed his handcuffs and slapped one on him, handcuffing him to the bed before he even realized what she was doing.

“That’s not me, you idiot.” Marci grabbed at her clothes. “That’s my sister Kim. And if that man is working with Paul, I sure as hell didn’t know anything about it.”

Cade jerked at the handcuffs.  “But you know him.”

“Of course, I know who he is,” she stammered, battling tears. “And his name isn’t Sebastian Zuckerman or Harvey Tuckman. It’s Samuel Turner.” Her chin wobbled as she sucked in a breath. “The bastard is my father.”

C
HAPTER
F
OURTEEN

“Wait, Marci,” Cade said in a pleading tone. “You can’t leave me like this.”

But the sound of the door slamming resounded through the apartment. Cade jerked at the cuffs, frantic to go after Marci.

Dammit. He had screwed up. He’d lost his head when they’d made love, then when he’d seen that picture of her with Sebastian, he’d instantly assumed she was guilty.

She would never forgive him for that.

He should have been able to tell the difference between her and Marci.

But it hadn’t occurred to him that Kim might be involved.

The iron bed rattled as he jerked and pulled at the cuffs. He had to get free. Figure out why the twins’ father had been in jail.

And if he was working with Pendergrass.

Except Marci would hate him even more if he had to bring her father down.

He twisted his arm and wrist, but the cuffs cut into them, and he knew there was no way he’d free himself without the key.

He reached for his wallet on the nightstand, but his fingers weren’t long enough. Frustration knotted his shoulders as he tried to sit up. Then he spotted the key.

On the dresser on the opposite side of the room.

There was no way he could snag it from the bed..

He cursed and twisted his wrist again, but to no avail. The bedposts rattled and noisily as he maneuvered sideways, straining and stretching but to no avail.

Finally he sighed in defeat. He had to call Georgia. Embarrassment flooded him at the thought of her finding him chained to Marci’s bed. She’d know Marci got the drop on him.

And that he had crossed the line and slept with her

But what else could he do?

The shooter might still be after Marci, and she was out there alone, upset and angry and probably not paying attention to her surroundings. It would be easy for someone to sneak up on her.

His heart raced as he frantically searched for his phone. Pulse drumming, he spotted it on the floor beside the bed. Twisting sideways, he dropped one foot over the edge of the bed and stretched. But his toe hit it and nearly knocked it across the room.

Inhaling a deep breath he tried again. This time he angled his body to get both feet on the floor, then he clamped them around the phone and lifted it to the edge of the mattress. A cramp caught in his belly, and he winced, rolling his body sideways enough to drop the phone on the bed. Then he used his right foot to tug it onto the covers.

Inch by inch, he dragged it until he finally closed his fingers around it. Knowing every minute counted, he punched Georgia’s number.

She answered on the second ring.  “I need you to come to Marci Turner’s.”

“What’s going on?”

“Just get over here fast.”

“I’ll be there in five.”

The line went dead, then he struggled to snag his jeans from the floor, tug them on, then snap them while he waited on her. There was no way he could get his shirt on.

Precious seconds ticked by, Marci getting farther and father away from him.

Did she know where her father was? Did Kim?

And if they did, had they known he was connected to Pendergrass?

*~*~*~*

Marci’s heart ached as she raced toward Kim’s. Her sister and Austin had bought a small house in Decatur, a short drive from her own. But it seemed like hours as she wove through the early morning traffic.

Joggers, mothers strolling their babies, and speed walkers filled the sidewalks working off last night’s dinner, moving along as if it was just another day.

As if nothing was wrong.

But
everythin
g was wrong.

She’d let herself trust the wrong man again, had given herself to him, had even fallen for him.

But he’d deceived her, used her and never believed her.

And Kim…how could her twin sister, the one person she trusted most in all the world have kept a secret as big as the fact that she’d seen their father from her?

She swung the bug into Kim’s driveway, jumped out and slammed the door, then stormed up to the front door. Austin’s car was still in the drive, along with Kim’s, but it was still dark inside.

She punched the bell again, then grabbed her keys and unlocked the door with the spare Kim had given her. Suddenly a light flickered on, and she heard footsteps in the bedroom. Not caring that she’d awakened them, she shoved open the bedroom door.

Kim shot up in bed while Austin stood there naked.

“Marci?”  Kim and Austin both said at once.

Marci ignored Austin, but he frantically jerked on boxer shorts.  “You could have knocked,” he growled.

“I did,” Marci snapped.

Kim’s brows furrowed in worry.  “Marci, what’s wrong?”

“How could you do this to me, Kim?”

Austin cleared his throat. “Kim?”

“Please, Austin, leave us alone for a minute.”

He looked hesitant, but he ducked into the bathroom, and a moment later, she heard the shower kick on. Kim grabbed her robe from the foot of the bed and pulled it on.

“Marci, I don’t know what’s wrong, but let’s go make some coffee.”

Marci threw her hands up in frustration. “I don’t want coffee, Kim, I want to know how you could lie to me.”

“Lie to you?” Kim’s face blanched.  “I haven’t lied to you about anything.”

“The hell you haven’t,” Marci said, hurt pummeling her.  “All my life I wanted to know where Dad was, and now I find out that you knew. That you’ve
seen
him.”

“Oh, God.” Kim tightened the belt on her robe and rushed toward Marci, her eyes pleading. “Marci, listen to me, I can explain.”

“Explain?” Marci said shrilly. “That you met him and had lunch with him and didn’t bother to tell me.” Memories of crying for her father when she was little flashed back.  “How long have you been seeing him? Why doesn’t he want to talk to me?”

Tears flooded her eyes, the years of hurt compounded by the sense of betrayal.

Of course he’d want to see Kim.

She was the responsible one. The one her mother had been proud of.

Not the screw up.

“It’s not what you think.” Kim crossed her arms, her voice soft, filled with pain.  “I’ve only seen him once. And it was just for a few minutes.”

“But you still didn’t tell me,” Marci cried. “I trusted you, Kim.”

Kim sighed, her eyes watering.  “I know that, and I didn’t tell you because I was hoping Dad would call you.”

Marci wrung her hands together. “But he didn’t.”

Kim ran a hand through her hair. “He only asked me to meet him because he was worried about you.”

“Oh, get real, Kim. I don’t believe that and neither do you.”

“It’s true,” Kim said. “He warned me that Paul might not be good for you. He was concerned about you marrying him.”

The photograph Cade had shown her mocked her.  “Because he was in jail with Paul!”

“What?” Kim asked, genuinely shocked. 

“Cade showed me a picture of Dad and you,” Marci said. “He thought it was me.” Her voice cracked.  “He also had a picture of Dad in jail with Paul. He said they met in their cellblock, and the police believe Dad is working with Paul on the con.”

“What? No…” Kim sank onto the bed, and shook her head in denial. “That’s not true. It can’t be.”

“He said they’ve been watching dad for years. That he had an alias, Sebastian Zuckerman and Harvey Tuckman.”

“There has to be a mistake,” Kim said in a raw whisper.

“He didn’t tell you about his relationship to Paul?”

“No,” Kim said. “Honestly Marci, he just told me to warn you about Paul.”

 Kim looked down at her knotted hands. “But I couldn’t…I didn’t want to mess up your day.”

Right. It had gone so well.

Still, the hurt was still too raw. She imagined her father huddling with Kim, the two of them talking about how irresponsible she was…

The bone deep ache inside Marci spiraled out of control. “I guess you and Dad had a nice talk about how stupid I am,” Marci muttered miserably.

Unable to stay in the room a minute longer, she turned and ran outside. She had to call Paul, convince him to meet her again, that she loved him.

Lie through her teeth so she could find out the truth about her father.

She slammed the front door on her way out, stumbling as tears blurred her eye.

But just as she reached for her door handle, a man grabbed her.

“Get in the car, Miss Turner.”

“Marci!” Kim shouted.

The man slammed the butt of the gun against her head, then threw her into a black sedan.