You Can't Hide (31 page)

His jaw tensed. “Not hurt, Tess.
Raped.
Repeatedly.” He looked away, his throat working.

“Brutally.”

She nodded calmly. “I thought as much.” She laid a hand on his arm, felt his muscles quivering. “You’re thinking your sister could have been, too.”

His head whipped back and the suffering in his eyes cut at the heart she’d thought couldn’t stand any more. “My God,” he whispered hoarsely. “I…”

She stroked his arm. “She wasn’t hurt, Aidan.”

He shuddered and dropped his chin to his chest. “I know. I know.” He raised his head. “The girl didn’t report it.”

Tess blinked. “That part I missed. What is Rachel going to do?”

“I don’t know. She’s scared. Terrified. Hel , so am I.”

“How did Rachel know if the girl didn’t report it?”

“The girl wasn’t in school today, but there were rumors.” His lips thinned. “I guess the boys just couldn’t keep something like that to themselves. Rachel stopped by to check on her. The girl hadn’t even told her parents. They just thought she’d had a wild party and was sick because she drank too much. They’ve grounded her for a month. Rachel tried to get her to call the police, but she wouldn’t. She’s too afraid.”

“That’s not unusual, Aidan. You know this.”

His hand slapped down on the kitchen counter, surprising them both. “Dammit, of course I know it.” His shoulders sagged. “I also know
I
have to report it.”

“And once you do, Rachel is involved.”

His eyes fixed on hers. “She’s afraid the boys will find out she told. That they’l get her, too.”

She could taste his fear, bitter and metallic. She understood exactly how Rachel felt. “Then you have to make sure they don’t find out who told.”

His nod was jerky. “I have to take her home now. My parents will be worried sick.” He reached behind his back and pul ed a black semiautomatic pistol from his waistband, smaller than the one he carried in his shoulder holster, bigger than the one she knew he carried at his ankle. “Do you know how to use this?”

Forcing her hands to be steady, she took it and competently set it on the counter next to her homemade salad dressing. “Yes. My brother Vito taught me.”

“Dol y will make sure nobody comes in. My parents’ house is less than ten minutes away, but I’l need to talk to my dad. I could be a while.” He looked at the simmering pots. “I’m sorry. It smells great, but I can’t-”

“It’l keep. Aidan, go. I’l be fine.”

He zipped up his coat, then paused at the door. “I’l call you on the home phone when I’m coming up to the garage so you’ll know it’s me. Dolly, stay.”

Then he was gone and she heard the garage door open and close as he took Rachel home. Bella came in the kitchen to rub up against her legs and Tess scooped her up, nuzzling her

116

Karen Rose

[Suspense 5]

You Can't Hide

against her cheek. “Bella,” she murmured, “remember when Eleanor used to say things went from sugar to shit? This is exactly the kind of day she was talking about.” Thoughts of Eleanor inevitably led to thoughts of Harrison and the grief returned.
Start being a psychiatrist,
he’d said. He’d been right. It was time to stop being a victim.
Get to work,Tess.
Wednesday, March 15, 6:00 A.M.

His mother was making breakfast and it smelled better than heaven. Aidan rol ed over, burrowing his face into the softness of a sofa cushion. He forced his eyes open. And found himself staring into the yellow eyes of a little brown cat. His mother didn’t have a cat. But Tess did. Abruptly he sat up, his brain slogging into motion, and the cat skittered away. He was in his own living room, on his own couch. He’d come home last night after taking Rachel home and talking with his father into the wee hours of the night to find Tess asleep at his kitchen table, her rosy cheek resting on her folded arm, Dol y at her feet. She’d fallen asleep writing something on one of his notepads, a pen loosely clutched in her hand, his pistol an arm’s length away and he remembered his racing heart careening from fear because she hadn’t answered the phone when he’d called to an arousal that had stolen his breath. She’d been warm and tousled and it had taken superhuman control not to tumble with her into his soft bed. But he’d tucked her in and bedded down on the sofa alone. He decided he was a saint.

His stomach growled insistently. A hungry saint. He pushed himself to his feet with a groan, padded into the kitchen and stood mesmerized. Tess Ciccotelli stood in front of his stove wearing a pair of jeans and his old CPD sweatshirt, the sleeves pushed up to her elbows. Her dark hair tumbled down her back in black waves and her sweat-socked feet tapped to the driving beat of Aerosmith, the radio volume turned down low. She did a little shimmy, wiggling that incredible ass as she flipped pancakes on the griddle and Aidan thought he’d never seen a sight more perfect in all his life.

Two long strides carried him to her and before she could say a word he had his hands in her hair and his mouth on hers, hard and hot and demanding. The small squeak of surprise caught in her throat, melting into a low moan that snipped the thin thread of his sanity. His hands streaked under the worn sweatshirt, stroking the silky skin of her back as her arms came around his neck and she opened her mouth, met his tongue ful force. She still held the spatula and the handle poked the base of his neck but he didn’t care because she was on her toes struggling to get closer, her breasts pressed against his chest, her hips wriggling against his crotch and all he could think was
Now now now
. His hands fumbled for the clasp of her bra, his fingertips skimming the undersides of her breasts when he realized the clasp was in the front. She whimpered and his hands shook. “Hurry,” she whispered against his lips. “Please.” He twisted and pul ed and the clasp gave way, spilling her breasts into his hands. She went still, rocking back on her heels, her head falling backward. Her lips parted, her eyes closed and he realized she held her breath, waiting. Waiting for him to touch her. And suddenly it was very, very important that her pleasure be worth her wait.

He released her, bringing his hands out from under the sweatshirt. Her eyes flew open, wild and aroused and confused. “What? Why?”

“Because.” He kissed her, grabbing the spatula with one hand and shutting off the stove burners with the other. “I want to take my time.”

Slowly he walked her backward, out of the kitchen and into the living room until her legs hit the back of the sofa. He lowered her, fol owed her down, settled her head on the soft cushion. Settled his hips between her thighs. She arched against him and the twist of pleasure nearly undid his resolve. With a laughing groan he pressed his hips against her, effectively pinning her in place.

“Not so fast,” he murmured, more to himself than to her. Abruptly he pul ed the sweatshirt over her head, trapping her arms, baring her breasts. His breath caught. His chest actually hurt.

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Karen Rose

[Suspense 5]

You Can't Hide

“My God,” he breathed. “Look at you, Tess.” And he did, staring at her perfect breasts, round, firm. Her nipples stood erect, begging for his mouth and he bent to sample, but veered off course at the last minute, wringing a strangled cry of frustration from her throat. She struggled to free her arms, sending her breasts jiggling. His eyes nearly crossed.

“Let me go.”

“No.” He ran his tongue along the underside of her left breast and she shivered. Hard. “Not yet, Tess. Just close your eyes.” She did and he repeated the caress on the other side, then buried his face between her breasts and breathed in her scent.

“Aidan.” Tess arched her back, but he turned his head, licking her right breast, again stopping too soon. She could feel his breath hot against her skin. She was on fire, every nerve in her body screaming for him to touch her. She wanted to feel his hands, his mouth on her skin. Needed it. She tried to lift her hips, but he held her fast, his erection throbbing against her. With a jerk she freed her arms, sending his sweatshirt flying across the room. Grasping his head between her palms she pul ed him close, crying out when his mouth finally closed over her nipple. And finally, finally he sucked, open-mouthed and hard and the pleasure started to build. “Oh God. Don’t stop.”

He lifted his head and stared down at her, his blue eyes were black, his lips wet. “I can’t,” he muttered. “I won’t.” Then he dropped his head and gave her other breast the same erotic treatment until she moaned, long and low, twisting to get closer to that hard ridge in his pants. He reared up, holding her head, taking her mouth in a savage kiss. His hips rol ed and thrust and she hooked her feet around his calves so that she could thrust back against him. Her breasts pushed against his shirt, the cotton rough against her sensitive nipples. Hands shaking, she pul ed at buttons until the shirt separated and there was nothing between them. She twisted sinuously, loving the feel of him. He was breathing hard, sweat beaded on his forehead.

“Do that again,” he rasped and she did, watching his face, the way the muscle in his jaw twitched, the way his eyes slid closed. His hips slowed, the motion now deep and rhythmic against her. Without the barrier of their pants, he’d be inside her, filling her to bursting, driving her to the orgasm she’d been so long without.

God, she wanted him to.

His throat worked and he opened his eyes. When he spoke, his voice was husky and sent another shiver radiating across her skin. “What do you want, Tess?” He leaned in, trailing his lips across her jaw. “Do you want to make love?”

More than anything she wanted to say yes, but when it came down to the actual moment, her father’s voice echoed in her mind. Despite its hypocrisy, his teaching was firmly planted in her mind, leaving her unsure. She’d dated Phillip damn-him-to-hell for months before they’d had sex and there had been precious few lovers before him. “I don’t have anything.”

His hips did another rol and she moaned, so torn. “I do,” he said in her ear. Still, she hesitated and his hips stopped. “Don’t move,” he ordered, his voice shaky now. “Not a muscle.” Grabbing the back of the sofa, he pushed himself to his knees, then stopped, his eyes greedily drinking her in. “You’re beautiful, Tess.”

This from a man who with his muscled torso and gorgeous face could easily have made his living modeling. But he’d chosen to be a cop. To protect. And to serve. So far, he’d done both exceedingly well. She cleared her throat. “So are you.”

Careful y he levered himself to his feet and with a grimace bent over and picked up the sweatshirt she’d been wearing. He handed it to her, then turned around with grim resolve, presenting his back as he buttoned his own shirt.

She adjusted her bra, then pul ed the sweatshirt over her head. She still tingled, between her legs and everywhere else. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He threw a rueful look over his shoulder. “I said I wouldn’t take advantage of you.” “And you didn’t.” She stood up and pressed a kiss to his stubbled cheek. “You made me remember what it felt like to feel wanted. And to want. Thank you.”

118

Karen Rose

[Suspense 5]

You Can't Hide

His eyes flashed. “I think we’d better eat breakfast now.” He walked away, muttering something that sounded like “damn saint.”

She fol owed him in the kitchen. “Sit down. I’l get you some pancakes.” She surveyed the uncooked mess on the griddle. “Lucky for you this was the last batch. The cooked ones are cold, but I can warm them up in the microwave.”

He winced as he sat down. “You didn’t have to cook for me.” His leg stretched straight out under the table and she bit back a smile as he adjusted himself. “And you don’t have to look so damned pleased with yourself.” The last, a good-natured grumble.

“I cook when I’m stressed.” She set the table and poured his coffee. “My mother does, too.”

Her mouth bunched in a frown. She hadn’t meant to say that. He shot her a curious look. “Your friend Jon says you don’t speak to your parents.”

Tess gritted her teeth, annoyed. “My friend Jon has a big mouth.” Then she grimaced. “I forgot to cal Jon and Amy and tell them I was okay.” She picked up her cell phone. “I turned it off last night. I figured you’d call the house phone and I started to get paranoid about the cell being bugged or having a tracking device. Stupid, huh?” The microwave dinged and she put the plate on the table.

Aidan piled pancakes on his plate. “Not stupid. Probably not reasonable, but given everything you’ve been through, definitely not stupid.” He dug in and sighed. “Pancakes, Aerosmith, and a great ass. You’re some woman, Doctor.”

Tess laughed as she turned on her cell phone. “Such poetry. Oh, shit.” She looked up with a frown. “I’ve got a million messages again. But it looks like most of them are from Jon and Amy.”

She scrol ed through the numbers. “Two unknowns.”

His jaw tightened. “We’l try to trace the other threats from last night.”

She tried not to panic. “Thanks. And…” She blinked at the next number. “Vito?”

“Your brother?”

“Yeah.” Hastily she dialed his number. “Vito, it’s Tess.”

“Where the hell are you?” he roared.

She winced. “Hello to you, too.”

“Don’t get cute with me, Tess. I’ve been out of my mind with worry. So has Mom.”

“How did you know?”

“Because you’re all over the fucking news. CNN and ESPN. You and that football player who committed suicide. Mom saw it last night and called me, desperate. What the hell were you thinking, Tess? My God. You can’t be held at gunpoint and not tell us. Mom thought you were dead. We’ve been trying your home phone for hours.”

“I’m not there.”

“No shit, sugar.” His voice was furious. “I know because I’ve been standing here in your apartment lobby all night waiting for you to come home.”

Her jaw dropped. “You’re here? In Chicago?”

“Yes, I’m here. In Chicago. I caught the last flight out of Philly last night.”

“Oh, Vito. You didn’t have to do that.” Memories of the day before washed over her and her throat thickened. “But I’m so glad you did. There was a break-in at my office last night.”