Flashback Page 20

  “I never touched her after that first bit. But you’re not her.”

  “No, I’m not. She was special and she was my sister, and I’m going after that bastard. You’re not going to stop me.”

  “Are you going to tell me what happened to you that caused Mallory to run to New York?” Offensive was usually good, but that statement—now—disgusted Kyle and probably every male on the planet. Was that the best he could come up with, while standing nude in front of an appraising, sexy woman?

  When Rachel continued looking, but didn’t answer, he tried a threat, which seemed a nice offset. “You can see I have a little problem. Any lady would leave.”

  “You do have a big problem.”

  Kyle forced himself not to move as Rachel studied his jutting erection, then walked slowly around him. “Are you about finished?” he asked her.

  “No, and neither are you,” she said as she came to stand in front of him. Rachel slowly drew away her sweat shirt and stepped out of her pants. “Let’s finish this.”

  “Just that simple?” he asked roughly, not trusting himself to touch her. “No strings?”

  Rachel had that dark, edgy, challenging look that could set him off as she said, “A. Let’s get this out of the way, and then we’ll both know, and B. after this is done, I want your promise that you will not, repeat not, think of supplying Jada’s sperm cup or even doing it the natural way, and C. are you going to kiss me or not?”

  “That’s pretty clear cut,” Kyle stated as his hands framed her waist and he tugged her close to him. “Jada won’t be happy with the news.”

  “You’re complicated, Scanlon, and I’m going to find out about that four hundred Mallory gave you every month. According to your books, you didn’t deposit it, because you’re meticulous about bookkeeping, something I wouldn’t expect.”

  “Thanks. I’m very careful about deposits,” he said, letting her know that he wasn’t talking about bookkeeping, rather that he would use protection as they made love. He slid his hands upward, brushed his thumb across her nipple and prayed that he wouldn’t embarrass himself. “So this is how you’re going to play detective?”

  “Let’s play,” she whispered huskily as her arms circled his neck.

  She’d always known that Kyle Scanlon would be her lover. That tidbit came prowling into her mind as Rachel opened herself to the rough, primitive possession of a male demanding everything.

  But Kyle was only taking what she allowed, drawing her close, standing with his legs braced, his body hard, thrusting between her thighs, blunt tip already seeking entrance to her body.

  His big hands moved down to press her bottom, easing her closer, until he entered just that bit. “You’re all tense, honey. If this isn’t right for you, don’t—”

  In and out, slowly, just that bit until Rachel could feel her inner muscles relax slightly. Kyle leaned his face down to her throat, nuzzling it. “If we get serious about this, I’m prepared. What about you?”

  She leaned her head to one side, enjoying the slow movement of his open lips against her skin. She moved her breasts against his chest, slowly, side to side. His rough sigh and the shudder of his big taut body said that Kyle was right on target, right there and ready. Rachel smoothed his shoulders, his upper arms and absorbed that controlled power. “You’re holding back, Scanlon.”

  “And maybe you are. Tell me what happened to you in New York…why Mallory hurried to you.”

  “We had things to do…shop, girl stuff, and some pop-up little vacation and I asked her to go.” She smiled against the lips cruising hers. “You’d use sex to get what you want?”

  This time it was his turn to smile against her cheek, then his teeth gently bit her earlobe. “Sure. You were engaged, weren’t you? What happened to that?”

  “Things. You talk too much.”

  “According to Jada, that breakup came a little after Mallory visited you.”

  “Jada talks too much.”

  His open hands smoothed her body, flowing over her. “Career woman is married to her job, right?”

  “I was engaged, and that said I wasn’t totally about business. And you like to play, don’t you?” she managed as heat began to slide over her.

  “Same as you. But with you, it’s different.”

  Rachel ran her fingers through his hair, testing it on her skin. “And you don’t like it?”

  “Not a bit. If you wanted, you could ruin a man. You’re getting all hot and damp and fragrant, Everly.”

  “Then you’d better do something about it, Scanlon…because you’ve got that desperate tight look and your body is hard and quivering.”

  “Men don’t ‘quiver,’ honey.” Kyle picked her up and walked into the bedroom. “The first time, a man likes to be a gentleman and take it slow. Then, just from this—test run—I’d say you haven’t had sex for a while. And that—” he said as he dropped Rachel onto the bed, “means that I’m going to be very careful with you.”

  “How sweet,” she commented dryly as he walked into the bathroom to retrieve his jeans.

  He was gorgeous and definitely prime, Rachel decided as he returned to flip a small opened foil package onto the bedside table. “Anything else, other than your appraisal of my lack of sex lately? And it’s a little early for wearing that, isn’t it?”

  Kyle looked down her body and Rachel fought shielding that intimacy. A dangerous man, Kyle Scanlon could rip away any pretense, and that irritated. He smiled briefly. “Never hurts to be prepared ahead of time. You want this your way, don’t you?”

  She drew up a sheet to cover her body. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “You will. Yes or no?”

  She wanted to keep this sexual game on a level that wouldn’t get to her, not deep inside where it really mattered. Kyle understood that there was nothing between them, no softer emotions, and sex with him would clear the board of that distraction—she’d know all there was to know about him before she was done. “Yes.”

  Rachel wasn’t prepared for the gentleness that Kyle gave her, the slow thorough study of her body with his lips, his hands. She wasn’t prepared for the earthshaking need to lock him to her, to have him quickly. “This is taking too long,” she whispered unevenly as he held her just that bit away from him and when she moved to capture him fully, he moved away.

  “Is it?” Kyle asked grimly.

  His body was heavy and slick upon hers, hot, full, tense to the point of release, but yet he wouldn’t—His hands ran down her thighs, stroked the back of her knees and raised them. “What’s the matter, Rachel? Getting a little involved now?”

  For an answer, she tugged his head down to hers and fed upon his mouth, seeking that wild dangerous primitive streak beneath the control. Kyle eased into her, still gently, then rested, watching her as she shifted her hips and adjusted to him. “This is nice,” she whispered when she could breathe. “What do you think, Scanlon?”

  His smile tight and brief, his heart pounding against her own. “Sure. Nice.”

  She had to push him, to make him take them further than just that bit of pleasure shimmering on the edge of true orgasm. “Sweet, don’t you think?”

  For an answer, he began to move….

  Kyle sank the eight ball in the side pocket, but his mind wasn’t on the shots. The morning sun slid through the front windows of Nine Balls as Rachel’s last drowsy words echoed in his mind: “You’re not sweet, Scanlon.”

  He’d dozed briefly with her body tangled around his, her breath gentle on his throat. She’d been soft and warm and he wanted her again, but as tight as Rachel was, he’d reined in his need. She’d been shocked when her body climaxed, fighting him on the very edge of release, holding him until they both opened and flowed into one another…..

  Kyle sipped the coffee he’d made earlier and brooded his emotions; Rachel had gotten to him a long time ago, and he might as well admit it.

  When a woman cries out in her sleep, sounding like a frightened child, something w
as eating at her, and he didn’t like it. When the muffled cry became words, “Don’t! Don’t touch me! You’re hurting me….” and her body threshed as if it were being held, Kyle didn’t like his conclusions—that Rachel had been raped.

  That would have been enough to send Mallory running off to take care of Rachel.

  That would explain her reaction to him at first, that brief tenseness, that flash of fear.

  That he’d made love to her said one of two things: that Rachel trusted him some small bit, or that she wanted her answers about Mallory enough to use her body. But Rachel had always depended on her quick mind for answers, and the physical honesty with which she’d met him spoke of hunger and a demand to equal his.

  Kyle fought the impulse to return to her bed, and instead picked up the misting bottle; he sprayed the ferns that Rachel had repotted near the front window. While thinking of how the sisters had loved each other, he meticulously picked away discolored fronds and worked at the facts:

  Mallory was different after that trip, sinking quickly….

  Was there a connection between Mallory protecting her family and whatever had happened to Rachel?

  If there was, that meant someone in Neptune’s Landing knew of Mallory’s love for her family and they were making a point that she had better obey— “Maybe Rachel was right that Mallory was protecting her family. It adds up.”

  Shane Templeton jogged on the sidewalk in front of Nine Balls. Mallory had had a thing for the minister, who was now frowning. He strode purposefully toward the front door and knocked on the glass.

  Kyle decided that he might as well let everyone know that he’d spent the night with Rachel, to let whoever came to her door last night know that he had a stake in protecting her. So what if that bit of macho possessive streak had surfaced where she was concerned? If the good minister was woman-hunting, Kyle wanted him to know that Rachel was off limits. Kyle smiled briefly at that as he walked to the door and opened the locks. “Come in.”

  The minister glanced at Kyle’s bare chest and his jeans, then looked around Nine Balls. He looked at the opened door at the stairway leading up to the apartment. The door wasn’t that noticeable and yet the minister had spotted it immediately. Kyle wondered how many times Shane Templeton had gone up that stairway to see Mallory.

  “I was just—”

  “Sure. You just dropped by to see how Rachel was. I’d offer coffee, but Rachel is still sleeping,” Kyle stated, as he studied the minister and wondered if he could have been last night’s caller. “Jog at night, do you?”

  Shane seemed flustered. “Sometimes. Are you running this place now?”

  Kyle let that nudge pass. “Like I said, Rachel is sleeping.”

  “Is she okay? I mean, why are you here, this early in the morning?”

  Kyle answered with a shrug and let the minister make his own conclusions. He glanced at Bob Winters who had just parked his car in front of the parlor. Bob walked around the big black Lincoln and stood peering into Nine Balls. He walked through the opened door and found the two men instantly. He seemed immediately concerned. “Is there a problem? I mean why are you two here? Is Rachel okay? What are you doing here, Scanlon?” he asked pointedly.

  “Night shift,” Kyle said slowly and waited for that innuendo to sink in.

  Bob recovered quickly, his face reddish with anger. “I don’t want you hanging around Rachel.”

  “Now, now—” Shane interrupted. “Things aren’t always as they seem. I’m certain there’s a good reason.”

  “Reason for what?” Rachel asked too quietly as she walked through the doorway leading from the apartment.

  Eleven

  AFTER A NIGHT SPENT WITH KYLE, FEELING WARM AND WILTY and satisfied when she first awoke, Rachel had heard the rumble of male voices downstairs. She had been alone, and it had been only six o’clock in the morning. The indistinct sounds of the men said that Kyle was ominously quiet, while the other man’s loud tone had belonged to Bob. Another man’s tense voice had blended with the others, more soothing, but still tense.

  Rachel had splashed water on her face, brushed her teeth, and dressed quickly before hurrying down the stairs. Then she had stopped near the doorway, priming herself to meet the man who was almost like a father to her, and Shane, who had given Mallory the book of poetry—and just maybe that wedding ring.

  But Rachel’s priority now was Kyle. She’d heard the “Night shift” remark and recognized the bald inference that they were lovers. Wearing only his jeans and moccasins, his jaw dark with stubble, Kyle watched her walk toward the men. “’Morning, Sunshine,” he murmured quietly.

  Low and deep within Rachel, her body clenched, remembering Kyle’s, the heat and strength of him, and the tenderness that had followed. But his blatant acknowledgment of their lovemaking to Bob and Shane was unnerving and embarrassing.

  She shot Kyle a warning look. She knew exactly what she looked like in a sweatshirt and jeans and her pink thongs. And Kyle was looking at her feet as if they were dessert.

  Then his gaze rose up her legs, slowly tracing her body up to the heat rising in her cheeks. Without moving, he reached out, snared her nape and drew her close for a brief, but thorough kiss. When he released her, Kyle kissed the end of her nose and patted her bottom. “’Morning, honey.”

  When she recovered, Rachel didn’t return his grin; she knew exactly what Kyle was doing, demonstrating his possession. She moved unsteadily away, putting the distance of another billiards table between them. She picked up the cue ball and tossed it lightly, catching it a few times to let Kyle know how much she wanted to throw it at him. He acknowledged her “I’ll talk to you later” look with a nod and crossed his arms over his chest.

  Rachel dragged her eyes away from him; Kyle’s chest was too fascinating, too fresh in her body’s memory, that crisp wedge of hair had rubbed erotically against her breasts.

  She placed the cue ball onto the table, rolled it into a pocket, and pulled herself away from the sensual tension and irritation between them.

  “What is this, a convention?” Rachel asked lightly and forced a light smile, when she could have killed Kyle. “A little early, isn’t it?”

  Bob’s reply was short and darkly accusatory. “What will your mother say? You know that Mallory took up with Scanlon and you know what happened to her? He’s a womanizer and he’ll ruin you. We expected more of you than this.”

  Shane’s reply was soft and concerned. “We were only concerned. His car was parked next to yours this morning. He came over to see Mallory at odd times, and we just thought that maybe you—were having trouble.”

  “Oh, I know what he was here for,” Bob stated darkly.

  Kyle set up another eight-ball rack and began shooting expertly, apparently ignoring the scenario and leaving Rachel to defend herself.

  Bob frowned at her. “I will not have you involved with him. I care for you girls and I warned Mallory off him, but she wouldn’t listen.”

  Kyle’s next shot clicked forcefully and he stood up to chalk his cue. His stare locked with Bob’s. “He’s right. We did have quite the conversation years ago.”

  The crisp morning air was heavy with shadowy tension that Rachel didn’t understand. Then Kyle shrugged and started shooting again. His body was stretched into perfect position, the morning light coursing across his bare back, flowing over the ripple of his muscles, his arms—

  Shane breathed heavily, glancing at her and then at the men. “I suppose I’d better go on my way. The ladies are having a meeting this morning and I’ve been asked to speak.”

  “Get rid of him,” Bob stated tightly to Rachel and scowled at Kyle.

  Kyle straightened and tossed his cue onto the table. His braced legs and that cord moving rhythmically in his jaw indicated a dark temper. “I guess that’s Rachel’s call, Winters.”

  “Rachel will have nothing to do with you. She knows what you did to Mallory.”

  “Well, I’d better go,” Shane stated briskly and hurried
out of the open door.

  “I’ll see you later, Rachel.” Bob kissed Rachel’s cheek and then raised to frown darkly at Kyle, who returned a steady impassive expression.

  When Kyle picked up his cue and starting shooting as if nothing had happened, Rachel closed the front door and locked it. She felt like yelling and maybe killing Kyle who seemed intent upon lining up the cue ball on a tricky shot. She turned to him and crossed her arms as she leaned back against a pool table. “Thanks for making coffee,” she said, keeping a leash on the need to yell at him.

  He shrugged and slid the cue through the bridge of his fingers several times.

  “What are you doing, Scanlon?”

  “Lining up a shot…After last night, you could call me Kyle. Seems more intimate somehow.”

  He made the shot, pocketed one ball, and Rachel picked up the other as it rolled toward a pocket. “Game time is over.”

  “Sure.” Kyle looked at her face and then slowly down her body. A muscle in his jaw clenched and he shrugged. “Anything you say.”

  He tossed the cue onto the table and walked to the door.

  “You are not going out that front door on to Atlantis Street, dressed like that. People are starting to go into their shops. There are people walking and jogging now before going to work.”

  He turned and lifted an eyebrow. “It was what I was wearing when I came here last night.”

  “Fewer people will see you if you go upstairs and out the apartment door. And we haven’t had that talk yet. I want those answers.”

  “So you’re inviting me back upstairs, honey?” he questioned softly as he walked to her. Kyle’s body blocked the view of anyone looking in the window as he ran a taunting finger down her cheek and her throat, down to the center of her chest.

  Rachel’s body instantly started humming, but she wasn’t giving into his tormenting. “Suit yourself. You seem to do that easy enough when you were making certain that everyone knew you had been with me last night. What was the point of that anyway?”

  Kyle watched his finger cruise across the tip of her breast. “First of all, it’s impolite to leave a lover in the morning without some kind of sweet talk. I was just killing time until you woke up.”