Monday, June 25, 11:30 p.m.
Faith didn’t give the man a second thought as she crossed the tiled lobby of the hotel. Laughter and the clink of glasses drifted out from the hotel bar as she stepped onto the elevator. Her attention shifted to room 701.
As the gilded doors slid closed, a hand reached between and pushed them open. She tensed for a second, thinking her admirer had followed, but then breathed a sigh of relief as Hayden casually stepped into the elevator.
He stood stock straight, staring ahead without acknowledging her. Broad shoulders, muscled thighs, and braced feet commanded most of the horizontal real estate, and over six foot two inches of height ate into a healthy portion of the elevator’s vertical space.
“Looks like you made a new friend,” he said.
Tucking her purse under her arm, she locked her gaze with his in the door’s reflection. “Not a friend.”
“He’s been watching you for at least a half hour.”
“As I’m sure half the people in that room were tonight.”
Hayden was a foot from her, but his proximity warmed her skin. Touching him was tempting, but elevator cameras kept her gaze forward as overhead music reminded her of piña coladas and dancing in the rain. The lighted elevator panel ticked off the floors until reaching seven. Hayden placed his hand over the open door and waited for her to exit.
She moved down the hallway, following the signs to 701. It felt good to be away from the crowds, the forced smiles and pretending.
Hayden’s steady steps followed, and when they reached the door, he produced a key and opened it. She passed him and flipped on the lights.
The room wasn’t fancy, but a shaving kit on the dresser, dry-cleaned shirts in the closet, and the closed curtains told her he’d been there earlier. He’d commented once that he lived out of hotel rooms for the most part and stayed on the go. She’d wager if she opened the curtains, she’d find a view of air-conditioning units or a brick wall. But then neither of them had come here for the sparkling view of Austin.
She sat on the edge of the bed and removed her heels as he tossed his hat on the chair. Next came his jacket and tie, which he hung in the closet. He stepped back, sat on the edge of the bed, and removed his boots as she pulled off her earrings and set them by the television.
This was how it had been with them. There was never a heady rush for either to get naked. Each took their time undressing, savoring the anticipation, looking at the other as if daring them to rush. It was sort of a game. Who would give in to temptation first?
She unbuttoned her blouse and shrugged it off before she turned her back to him and felt his calloused fingers slowly pull down the back zipper of her pants, exposing her lace underwear. He trailed a finger up her spine to the clasp of her bra, which he unhooked.
Her breath caught in her throat as her belly tightened. This was what she’d been craving since she’d last seen him four days ago. She wiggled the slacks over her hips and let them fall to her ankles. She stepped out of them and hung them and her blouse next to his clothes in the closet. Knowing he was watching, she slipped off her lace bra, panties, and lace-trimmed thigh highs. When she turned, he was no longer by the bed but standing inches from her. He still wore his khakis, but he’d stripped off his shirt.
Again, she didn’t hurry. Let the anticipation build. Let the wanting grow so sharp that it cut away everything in her life.
He glided his hands along her waist, but instead of pulling her toward him, he turned her toward the mirrored closet door.
This was also how it went with them. Neither wanted to look into the other’s eyes. She didn’t want to see him as a person. And she guessed he was pretending she was the woman he still loved. His hand slid over her buttocks and squeezed hard enough to make her try to squirm away.
He reached around and cupped her mound, rubbing it until she was wet. When she began to wriggle, he drove his fingers between the folds. She sucked in a breath, not raising her eyes to his because she didn’t want to see him. She only wanted to feel.
His zipper opened, she heard the rip of foil, and he fumbled only for a moment before he pressed the tip of his erection against her bare skin. She flattened her hands against the mirror and arched toward him. He spread her legs and pushed into her with one hard thrust so abruptly her breath caught in her throat.
He hesitated, allowing her body to adjust to him. Again, no kisses. No words. Just patience for her body to fully open. When the tightening eased, he moved inside her slowly as his fingers pressed against her now very moist center.
He’d learned very quickly which buttons it took to set her on fire, and he was pressing them all. A moan escaped her lips as he shoved into her harder with a fevered thrust she’d not experienced with him before. The tight control he always maintained had slipped, and she could feel a creature inside of him stirring.
He pushed into her faster, and she found herself racing toward the edge of an abyss that she so desperately wanted to tumble into. With him inside her, the world faded, and she could simply surrender to sensation.
A groan rumbled in his chest, and for the first time she opened her eyes. He was staring at her with a mixture of pleasure and pain.
She pushed his hand away and pressed her fingers to her clitoris. He gripped both her hips with his hands, and he thrust as she drew tighter and tighter circles around her core.
And then a fuse lit, caught fire, and the explosion propelled her over the edge into the void. Her eyes closed, she arched back, and he thrust into her one last time before his body stiffened and the muscles in his neck flexed.
Both stood still, breathless and savoring the last remnants of the climax. He smoothed his hand over her belly in a possessive, almost regretful way, as he slowly pulled out of her and stepped back.
He vanished into the bathroom, and as he discarded his condom, she reached for her panties and bra. She shimmied into both and sat on the edge of the bed as she pulled her thigh highs on. He came out of the bathroom and shrugged on his shirt. She stepped into her pants and tucked in her blouse. Without a word she turned away from him, and he zipped them up. She worked the left and then right shoes on, and then tipping her head and jostling her hair back, she put her earrings back on.
He was buttoning his shirt, but she could again feel him watching.
She picked up her purse, caught the rigid set of his jaw. “Keep me posted on the Ledbetter case. And be safe, Captain.”
“Will do.”
As she moved past him, he caught her arm and held her. She watched, uncertain. And then he leaned in and for the first time, kissed her on the lips. It was still hungry, but there was also something deeper entwined with the desire.
When he pulled back, she moistened her lips. “A kiss? Are we going steady, Captain?”
“There’s nothing steady about us.”
“Thankfully, no.”
He released her arm. “Why’d you say yes to me the first time?”
“I don’t know.” She’d been very self-conscious that first time he’d entered her, and he must have sensed it had been a while.
Now without another word, she left the hotel room, the door shutting behind her as she made her way to the elevator. Wanting and loneliness trailed behind her, and she quickened her pace, knowing sooner or later they’d catch up to her.
In his car outside the Driskill Hotel, he tugged at the cuffs of his custom-made shirt, pleased that he’d blended so well with the city’s finest in their swanky hotel. There was a time when he would never have made it past the front door. The bellman would have taken one look at his ripped jeans and dirty hands and called the cops. But those days, he kept reminding himself, were long gone. Not only would he never go back, but he would do whatever it took to keep them as far away from him as possible.
He’d have followed Faith if not for the Texas Ranger who’d caught the elevator just as its doors were closing. He had seen the Ranger arrive earlier and noted the two had exchanged a few words, but then they had appeared to go their separate ways. Until the elevators.
So Faith and the Ranger had a thing. Interesting. No one else had seemed to notice them. Attention to detail was what had gotten him off the streets and earned him a reputation as one of the best to call when a problem needed to be discreetly taken care of. Granted, this latest list of names was going to be a challenge, but that’s why he got paid the big bucks.
The front doors of the hotel lobby opened, and Faith stepped out into the ring of light. She glanced at her phone as the bellman approached and a black four-door sedan pulled up. She tipped the bellman, slid into the back seat, and the car drove off, its taillights vanishing around the corner.
When he’d seen her picture in the lobby, he’d made a few inquiries about her in general. She enjoyed a solid standing as a forensic pathologist, had a curious mind, and had a reputation for being tenacious. He wasn’t sure why the likes of Jack Crow and Faith McIntyre were on the same list, but it wasn’t for him to question, only to execute orders.
He still didn’t know how much she did or didn’t know about the package, but that didn’t really matter. She was on the list, so he would make the time to have a chat with her.
His phone vibrated with an alert from the camera he’d posted at the country ranch. As he glanced at the screen, he wasn’t sure what he expected. A random coyote. A sagebrush’s prickly arms reaching up toward a moonlit sky.
He sure had not expected to see a woman walking toward the stones in the dark. She knelt, ran her hand over the rock, and then looked to the other two as if she’d recognized them for what they were.
He stared at her face for a long moment. Then did a double take in the direction of the car that had just carried Faith away. The woman at the ranch looked exactly like Faith. Jack had been so mutinously silent during their chat, and now he knew why. There’d not been one baby on that night in 1988, but two. Twins.
When the phone vibrated with a text, he cursed until he saw the number.
He perched a cigarette on his lips and flicked the flint wheel of a gold-plated lighter until a flame appeared. He inhaled deeply, savoring the burn as the smoke flowed out of his nose and mouth.
Are we on track with our project?
He stared at the glowing tip of his cigarette and then typed. All is going according to plan.
He hesitated. Not yet. But I will.
Watching the woman walk back to the truck that he knew belonged to Jack Crow, he could feel the skin on the back of his neck prickle the way it did when there was a problem. Who the hell was she? And then it hit him. She was Jack’s kid. Macy Crow. She was the little kid in all the photos he’d smashed. When she had looked up at the camera, her gaze had been defiant and annoyed.
You need to wrap this up, his employer typed.
So you’ve told me. He was a professional and didn’t need coaching.
All this needs to go away quietly and quickly.
The tone of the text reminded him that no matter how far he’d climbed, there would always be someone adding their two cents. Very annoying, and he had his limits. I’m on it.
Macy had been to the ranch, no doubt tipped off by Crow. If she was curious enough to go to the ranch at night alone, she was tenacious like her old man. He admired her grit.
Where would he send Macy next, if he were Crow?
When the answer came, he almost laughed.