In the Enemy's Arms (21 page)

His kiss went on forever, slow, simmering, and she realized the spontaneity might be gone, but the anticipation was double. With each stroke of his tongue, each soft sound, each touch of her hands on him, the heat inside her flared higher, like a fire finding fresh bursts of oxygen everywhere it flickered. It licked along her skin, heated her blood, sucked the breath from her lungs and left her damp, aching, needing.

When his hands slid beneath her pajama top, cupping her breasts, his fingers finding her sensitive nipples, she gasped, the sound swallowed by his mouth. When her own greedy hands began shoving at his boxers, he did the same. He braced on trembling arms, never leaving her mouth, so she could push the fabric out of the way, then he kicked free and she wrapped her fingers around his erection. Swollen, straining, skin so soft and hot…

His hips arched away from her caresses, and finally he tore his mouth from hers. “Let me get…” His voice was barely recognizable: husky, thick, words brutally formed.

He shifted to the foot of the bed, where a zipper rasped loudly, followed by the crinkle of plastic. When he returned, he sat back on his heels, and in the dim light that came from the bathroom, his grin was satisfied and cocky and tender. For her. His fingers curled around the waistband of her pajamas, and she automatically lifted her hips to let him slide them and the thin cotton panties underneath down her legs. They landed somewhere behind him. While he watched, she curled her own fingers around the hem of the top and reversed the action.

“Aw, doc… You are beautiful.”

“So are you.” Tentatively she touched his hip, his rock-hard abdominal rectus muscle.

“Mark this day on the calendar. Dr. Cate Calloway gave me a compliment.”

She took the condoms from his grip, tossed all but one on the nightstand, then ripped the package open. “She’s going to do a whole lot more than just compliment you,” she murmured.
“Now.”

With a laugh, he took the condom she offered and rolled it in place, his hands unsteady, then he pushed her back on the bed, leaning over her, making her feel warm and secure and safe and wanted. When he kissed her again, she thought she might have swooned, and when he entered her, stretching, filling her, everything inside her gave a great, satisfying sigh.

It felt so good. So perfect. So
right.

Chapter 10

T
he insistent beeping of the alarm woke Justin before dawn the next morning, pinging louder and louder into his dream until he couldn’t ignore it any longer. He didn’t want to move, didn’t want to give up the sweet heat of the body curled next to his, the sweet scent of the hair tangled beneath his chin, the incredibly sweet ease brought about by incredibly sweet sex. When he opened his eyes, the dream would disappear, so he kept them shut while swinging one hand out to find the offending clock and silence it.

Then the dream sighed softly and snuggled closer and, poof, he had the champion of morning erections, and the night before came flooding back to him. Cate. Underneath him, on top of him, cuddled against him. Shared kisses and caresses and orgasms and whispers.

He’d thought his entire life had been one of luck, but now he knew for real what getting lucky meant.

She stretched, touching every sensitive part he owned, which appeared to be everything, then sleepily slurred, “It’s still dark. Do we have to get up?”

Get up? Let go of her, get out of bed, put on clothing? No. Hell, no. He’d waited too long for this moment—forever, he was pretty sure—to end it prematurely for… For what? Why had he set the damned alarm?

His brain was foggy. He hadn’t slept enough, and those hours before sleep had been sensory overload. Not enough thinking and more feeling than he’d experienced in a lifetime. But before then, before Cate had come out of the shower looking adorably sexy and serious, when he’d set the alarm…

It came back to him with enough emotional punch to shrivel the most determined erection. Luisa. The pervert doctor. Keeping the Wallaces from killing Susanna and Trent.

He pressed a kiss to Cate’s hair, then, when she stretched again, her cheek, her throat, her shoulder. She purred—Cate, whose only kittenish behavior toward him in the past had consisted of hissing and the baring of claws—and rolled to face him, sliding one arm around him.

“We’ve got to see what we can find about Luisa,” he said, and instantly her eyes came open. He studied them for any hint of surprise that it was him she curved so intimately against, or regret that she’d given in to him in a weak moment.

But there was no oh-God-what-have-I-done in her blue eyes, just a sudden alertness that chased away the sleepiness, the dreaminess, but not the intimacy. She raised her hand, rubbing her fingers lightly over the day-old beard there. “I don’t suppose we could be hiding when Dr. Sutton comes out to his car and pepper spray the truth out of him.”

He twisted his head to kiss her knuckles. “I’d rather just beat it out of him with my fists.”

“Are you much of a fighter?”

“What I lack in skill, I make up for with enthusiasm.” Then he grinned. “I’ve won my share of fights. I’ve also had my ass kicked a few times.”

“I never imagined Justin Seavers knew how to lose.”

“I don’t when it’s important.” And
she
was important.

Just like Luisa, Trent and Susanna, the renewed beeping reminded him. He must have hit Snooze instead of the Off button.

Cate sat up, as reluctant to move as he was to let her, then shut off the alarm. Her spine was straight, the skin soft and golden all the way down to the flare of her hips. He expected her to be shy, despite the fact he’d seen every bit of her last night, but she stood, shoved her feet into her slippers, grabbed a neatly folded set of clothes from her suitcase and disappeared into the bathroom.

He enjoyed every step of her journey.

While he waited, he dressed, located her pajamas and tossed them on her bed, threw away the empty condom wrappers and combed his fingers through his hair. He was antsy, wanting to get out to the Sutton place, to make sure the pervert doctor went to his office as usual and didn’t take Luisa with him.

And if he didn’t? If they got the chance to talk to her?

Cate returned, hair damp to tame the bedhead and wearing the jeans from last night with a long-sleeved T-shirt that clung in all the right places, along with the slippers. As she sat down on the bed to put on running shoes and socks, he asked, “What is it with you and the pink things? Do you have a phobia about walking barefooted on motel carpet?”

Color tinged her cheeks. “It’s not a phobia. It’s just a personal preference.”

“They’re feet,” he teased. “They’re meant to get dirty.”

“I like mine clean,” she said primly.

Laughing, he took his turn in the bathroom. By the time he came back, she was waiting, purse and Garcia’s files in one hand, their jackets in the other. Her pajamas were packed, the duffel holding her suitcase and his backpack on the floor at her feet. She followed his gaze to them and said, “Just in case.”

In case they got lucky—or unlucky—and couldn’t return to the motel. He nodded and hefted the bag over his shoulder.

The parking lot lights buzzed, auras forming around each lamp. If anyone was stirring in the other rooms, it was hard to tell. They put on their jackets to guard against the predawn chill, got into the car with its creaky, cold seats and made a stop at a fast-food drive-through before heading to the Sutton house.

Nothing had changed. Lights still blazed at the back, providing security for the animals, the SUV was still parked in the driveway and the house sat in darkness. Settled in at the same vantage point as the night before, they ate sausage biscuits and greasy hash browns, washing them down with coffee that provided caffeine and warmth, if not much in the way of flavor.

“Pediatricians don’t do much surgery, do they?” he asked, as Cate gathered the wrappers and napkins, wadding them together in the bag.

“Generally not. That’s what referrals are for.”

“Would Sutton have patients in the hospital he’d want to see before work?”

She shrugged, hugging her arms across her middle. “It’s hard to say. So many facilities have gone to the hospitalist system—staff doctors whose job is to oversee inpatient care, regardless of who the patient’s primary doctor is. I’m guessing when he leaves here, he’ll go straight to his office.”

Which opened at 7:30 a.m. Divers weren’t the only ones who had to get up and around early.

She looked uncomfortable and cold on the ground, so he shifted position until one of the boulders was against his back. “Come here.”

The look she gave him was both wary and tempted. He made his answering look as innocent as possible. “I’m just offering you a place to sit where your ass doesn’t freeze. Come on, Cate. We already played doctor half of last night. Surely you don’t think I’m going to get fresh with you here.”

“‘Fresh’?” she mocked, but she moved across the stone to slide onto his lap. “That sounds like something my grandparents would say.”

“It’s something my grandparents
do
say.” He wrapped his arms around her, and she settled against him. He’d offered to warm her, but just that contact sent heat blazing through
him.
“For filthy rich, they’re good people.”

She slanted him a look before resting her head on his shoulder. He couldn’t blame her for having prejudices against people like his family. Trent had neglected her and been unfaithful. His parents hadn’t warmed to her, either—his mother hadn’t hidden her disappointment that her only son hadn’t picked someone more
suitable
—and neither had his friends, and now the Wallaces wanted to kill her. It could give a woman an inferiority complex.

“What are we going to do after Sutton leaves?”

“Try to talk to Luisa?” He shrugged. “We can’t call the police. We don’t have time.”

“Do you think he’ll leave her here alone all day, as young as she is?”

“Honey, they didn’t adopt her. They
bought
her. They’ve kept her existence a secret. Apparently, she sleeps in the basement. I don’t think he’s going to worry about her being home alone. She’s not going to call for help—she doesn’t know anyone
to
call—and she’s not going to run away because she doesn’t have anywhere to go. Whatever’s going on inside that house, at least she’s got food, shelter and a place to sleep.”

Cate snuggled a little closer and whispered, “She’s got us.”

He smiled thinly. If they could be of any use to her. The Wallaces could have already put out the word to all their customers: get rid of the kids, at least temporarily. That could mean shipping them off somewhere, selling them to someone else or, if the so-called parents had enough to lose, killing them. Desperate people took desperate measures to avoid prison.

The Wallaces were desperate.

His butt was growing numb by the time they saw some activity across the road. Cate shifted to the ground, sinking out of sight, and he did the same. Sutton came out of the house, juggling a travel mug, a protein bar and his suit coat to lock the deadbolt behind him. He strode to the steps, beeping the electronic lock on the SUV, then climbed inside, turned in a U and headed toward the road.

He was in his midforties, excess pounds around his middle and sparse hair on his head. He wore a smug, self-satisfied look, as if he were king of his realm, off to his practice in an upscale building, to treat the kids of parents who could afford his rates or had the insurance to cover them. He probably never did volunteer work, never treated a patient for free or, more, paid for the treatment himself, like Cate did. Sure, she called the supplies she shipped to La Casa donations, but Trent and Susanna knew she was the donor.

Sutton turned toward town, unaware that his kingdom was about to get shaken up.

“Bastard,” Cate muttered. “Let’s make sure he’s gone, then go over and see if Luisa will talk to us.”

Justin stood, then pulled her to her feet, deliberately tugging hard enough to pull her off balance and into his arms. She caught herself with both hands on his chest, giving him a chiding look.

“You’re incorrigible.”

He grinned. “But you adore me anyway, don’t you?”

“You have enough ego for any ten men. I’m not adding to it.” But she wrapped her fingers around his and held on until they reached the car.

They waited until ten minutes had passed, then he started the engine. On the short drive to the Sutton house, he figured what to say if Sutton returned for some reason—that he was hoping to talk to Mrs. Sutton about a horse. Based on Garcia’s information, including the wife’s blog that included tons of pictures of herself, dogs and horses and no mention of a husband or child, it didn’t seem likely the doctor shared her four-legged passion.

“You stay here,” he said when he parked where the SUV had been.

Cate paused in the act of unbuckling her seat belt. “We know Sutton’s not here.”

“But we don’t know whether anyone else is. Presumably there are animals out back. Someone’s got to take care of them while the wife is gone.”

Scowling, she folded her hands in her lap.

Sliding out, he ducked back down to grin at her. “Thanks, doc. You know, I adore you, too.”

That was a major understatement, he thought as he climbed the porch steps. Like saying diving was fun or Cozumel was nice.

The first picture window he passed opened into an office, dimly lit and empty, the door closed. Reaching the door, he rang the bell and listened to it echo inside. After the sound faded, he rang it again, then walked farther along the porch to the next window. The living room was also dimly lit, also empty. Everything looked immaculate—not a footprint on the carpet, tables gleaming, nothing obviously out of place.

It was a good housekeeping job for people who worked and didn’t have a housekeeper.

When he shifted his gaze to the kitchen, a faint blur of movement caught his attention, nothing solid, just a shadow shifting on the wood floor. He crossed the porch in a few strides, gestured to Cate to wait, then circled to the rear of the house.