Best Kept Secrets

"What's the matter?"

 

She shook her head and shyly lowered her eyes. "Nothing."

 

He didn't seem ready to accept her answer. Before he could

 

pursue it, however, the telephone rang. He reached for the

 

wall extension.

 

"Lambert. Oh, hi, Junior." He looked toward Alex.

 

"Yeah, it was a real mess." He listened. "She, uh, she had

 

a meeting with him right before it happened. . . . I'm afraid

 

she saw everything."

 

He paraphrased Alex's official statement. "That's all I

 

know. . . . Well, Christ, tell them to calm down. They can

 

read about it in tomorrow's paper, like everybody else. . . .

 

Okay, look, I'm sorry," he said, "it's been a bitch of a day

 

and I'm tired.

 

"Give Sarah Jo one of her pills and tell Angus he's got

 

nothing to worry about." He caught Alex's frown, but kept

 

his expression bland. "Alex? She's fine. . . . Well, if she

 

doesn't answer her phone, she's probably in the shower. If

 

you want to play Good Samaritan, there's somebody who

 

needs you more than Alex tonight. . . . Stacey, you idiot.

 

Why don't you go over there and sit with her for a while. . . .

 

Okay, see you tomorrow."

 

 

 

After he broke the connection, he left the phone off the

 

hook and went back to his food. Alex asked, "Why didn't

 

you tell him I was here?"

 

"Did you want me to?"

 

"Not particularly. I just wondered why you didn't."

 

"He didn't need to know."

 

"Will he go see Stacey?"

 

"I hope so, but you never can tell about Junior. Actually,"

 

he said, swallowing a bite, "you seem to be all he's thinking

 

about."

 

"Me, personally, or what I heard from Judge Wallace?"

 

"A combination of both, I guess."

 

"Angus is upset?"

 

"Naturally. Joe Wallace was an old friend."

 

 

 

"Friend and coconspirator." Reede didn't rise to the bait;

 

he didn't even divert his attention from his supper. "I must

 

talk to Angus, Reede. I want you to drive me over there as

 

soon as we finish eating." He calmly reached for his coffee

 

cup, sipped, returned it to the saucer. "Reede, did you hear

 

me?"

 

"Yes."

 

"Then, you'll drive me over?"

 

"No."

 

"I've got to talk to him."

 

"Not tonight."

 

"Yes, tonight. Wallace implicated him in a cover-up. I've

 

got to question him about it."

 

"He's not going anywhere. Tomorrow's soon enough."

 

"Your loyalty is commendable, but it can't protect Angus

 

forever."

 

He set his silverware on his empty plate and carried it to

 

the sink. "Tonight, I'm more concerned about you than Angus."

 

"Me?"

 

He glanced at her plate and, satisfied that she was finished,

 

cleared it away. "Seen yourself in a mirror lately? You look

 

like hell. Several times I've braced myself to catch you, afraid

 

you were about to keel over."

 

"I'm fine. If you'll just take me back to the motel, I'll--"

 

"Uh-uh," he said, shaking his head. "You're staying here

 

tonight, where you can get some sleep without being pestered

 

by reporters."

 

"Do you really think I would be?"

 

"A judge's death is hot news. A judge's suicide is even

 

hotter. You were the last person to talk to him. You're conducting

 

an investigation that has the racing commission worried.

 

Yeah, I think the press will be tramping down the bushes

 

around the Westerner to get to you."

 

"I'd be okay if I locked myself in my room."

 

"I'm not taking any chances. As I've told you before, I

 

don't want one of Harper's pets to get herself killed in my

 

 

 

county. You've generated enough negative publicity for us

 

these last few weeks; we sure as hell can't stand any more.

 

Does your head hurt?''

 

She had rested her head in her hand and was subconsciously

 

massaging her temples. "Yes, a little."

 

"Take some medicine."

 

"I don't have it with me."

 

"I'll see if I can round up something for your pain."

 

He circled the back of her chair and scooted it away from

 

the table. As she stood up, she said, "You keep a stash of

 

drugs, too? That's against the law, you know."

 

"Is that all you ever think about--the law? Whether something

 

is right or wrong? Is the line between them so clearly

 

defined for you?"

 

"Isn't it for you?"

 

"If it had been, I'd have gone hungry lots of times. I stole

 

food to feed myself and my old man. Was that wrong?"

 

"I don't know, Reede," she said wearily.

 

Her head hurt from-trying to keep up with their argument.

 

She trailed him down the hallway, not really realizing where

 

he was headed until he switched on the light in his bedroom.

 

Her face must have registered alarm because he grinned

 

sardonically and said, "Don't worry. I'm not trying to seduce

 

you. I'll sleep on the sofa in the living room."

 

"I really shouldn't stay here, Reede."

 

"We could both be grown up about this ... if you were

 

a grown-up to start with."

 

Not in the least amused, she lashed out at him. "There are

 

a million reasons why I shouldn't spend the night here. Number

 

one on the list is that I should be questioning Angus right

 

now."

 

"Give him one more night of grace. What could it hurt?"

 

"Pat Chastain will probably expect to hear from me."

 

"I told him you were near collapse and that you would

 

contact him in the morning."

 

"You planned ahead, I see."

 

"I wasn't taking any chances. When allowed to roam free,

 

you're dangerous."

 

 

 

She leaned against the wall and closed her eyes for a moment.

 

Too proud to capitulate, but too exhausted not to, she

 

compromised. "Just answer one question."

 

"Shoot."

 

"May I use your shower?"

 

 

 

Fifteen minutes later, she turned off the taps and reached

 

for a towel hanging on the bar. He had loaned her a pair of

 

pajamas to put on. They looked brand new.

 

When she had commented on it, he said, "Junior brought

 

them to me in the hospital when I had my appendix taken

 

out several years ago. I only wore them so I could get out

 

of that ass-baring gown. Can't stand the things."

 

Smiling at the distasteful face he'd made when he'd said

 

that, she slid her arms into the blue silk top and buttoned up

 

the front. Just then he tapped on the bathroom door. "I found

 

some pain pills."

 

Well covered to midthigh, she opened the door. He handed

 

her the prescription bottle. "This is strong stuff," she remarked,

 

reading the label. "You must have been in severe

 

pain. The appendectomy?"

 

He shook his head. "Root canal. Feeling better?"

 

"The shower helped. My head's not hurting so bad anymore."

 

"You washed your hair."

 

' 'Against doctor's orders. I wasn't supposed to for a week,

 

but I couldn't stand it any longer."

 

"Better let me take a look at your stitches."

 

She tipped her head forward and he gently parted her hair.

 

His fingers were light and deft. The most pressure she felt

 

was his breath against her scalp.

 

"Everything looks all right."

 

"I washed around it."

 

Reede stepped away, but continued to look at her. She

 

looked back. They stayed that way for a very long, silent

 

time. Eventually, in a low, rough voice, Reede said, "Better

 

take your pill."

 

She turned toward the sink and filled his toothbrush glass

 

 

 

with tap water. She shook a tablet from the plastic bottle,

 

tossed it back, and took a long drink. As she was bringing

 

her head forward, she caught his eyes in the mirror. She

 

replaced the snap-on lid of the pill bottle and turned, drying

 

her mouth on the back of her hand.

 

Inexplicably, and totally unexpectedly, tears formed in her

 

eyes. "I know you don't regard me too highly, Reede, but

 

you must know how terrible I feel about what Judge Wallace

 

did.'' Her lower lip began to tremble; her voice became husky

 

with emotion. "It was awful, horrible."

 

She stepped toward him, put her arms around his waist,

 

and laid her cheek against his chest. "Be kind for once and

 

just hold me. Please."

 

He groaned her name and curled his arm around her waist.

 

His other hand cradled the back of her head to hold her face

 

against his chest. He massaged her scalp soothingly and

 

pressed soft kisses on her brow. At the first touch of his lips,

 

she tilted her head up. She kept her eyes closed, but she could

 

feel the heat of his gaze on her face.

 

His lips brushed hers, and when hers separated, he murmured

 

another low groan and kissed her deeply. His hands

 

sifted through her wet hair, then caressed her neck.

 

"Touch me again, Reede," she pleaded.

 

He unbuttoned the pajama top, then slid his hands inside

 

it, encircling her body and drawing it up high against him.

 

His shirt lightly rubbed against her nipples. She felt the cold

 

bite of his belt buckle on her bare belly and the bulge of his

 

fly nudging her mound as it nestled in the soft hair between

 

her thighs.

 

Each sensation was more electrifying than the last. She

 

wanted to savor each one individually, but the combination

 

of them was too immense and overwhelming for her to concentrate.

 

Every blood vessel in her body expanded with passion.

 

She was inundated with him.

 

Suddenly, he moved away from her. She looked up at him,

 

bewildered, wide-eyed, and already feeling the loss.

 

"Reede?"

 

 

 

"I have to know."

 

"What?"

 

"Have you been to bed with Junior?"

 

"I don't have to answer that."

 

"Yes, you do," he said resolutely. "If you want this to

 

go one step further, you do. Have you been to bed with

 

Junior?"

 

Desire won out over pride. She shook her head and gave

 

him a soft, whispery answer. "No."

 

After several ponderous seconds, he said, "Okay, then,

 

this time we're going to do it right."

 

Taking her hand, he led her into the living room, which

 

surprised her because the bed had been turned down while

 

she was in the shower. In the living room, the only light was

 

from the fire burning in the fireplace. He had already made

 

up the couch for himself, but he whipped the bedding off

 

now and spread it out on the floor in front of the hearth. She

 

knelt on the pallet while he calmly began to undress.

 

His boots, socks, shirt, and belt were cast aside with dispatch.

 

Alex, acting on impulse, moved aside his hands when

 

they went to undo his fly. Slowly, her fingers pushed the

 

stubborn metal buttons through the holes. When all were

 

undone, she opened the wedge wider, leaned forward and

 

kissed him.

 

Groaning, Reede gently cupped her head between his

 

hands. Her mouth opened warmly and wetly over his belly,

 

just below his navel. "That's my favorite thing," he rasped.

 

Sliding her hands into the back of his jeans, she eased them

 

over his buttocks, while her lips continued to whisk airy,

 

breathy kisses over his lower body. Finally, her tongue

 

glanced the tip of his penis.

 

"Stop, Alex. Stop," he moaned. "That's killing me,

 

baby."

 

Quickly, he stepped out of the jeans and kicked them aside.

 

Naked, he was tall and rangy and rugged, the appendectomy

 

scar only one of many.

 

His body hair caught the glow of the fire. It showed up as

 

 

 

a golden fuzz over his tanned skin, except around his sex,

 

where it was dark and dense. Lean muscles rippled with each

 

movement.

 

' 'Get out of that goddamn pajama top before I tear it off.''

 

Sitting back on her heels, Alex eased the pajama jacket

 

off her shoulders and let it go. The sensuous fabric pooled

 

around her. Reede dropped to his knees in front of her. His

 

eyes drank in every inch of her.

 

Alex thought he seemed hesitant to touch her, but finally,

 

he lifted his hand to her hair and rubbed the damp auburn

 

strands between his fingertips. He watched his hand's slow

 

progress down her neck and chest to her breast. His thumb

 

made light, deft passes across the nipple until it hardened.

 

Catching her breath, she sighed, "I thought you weren't

 

trying to seduce me."

 

"I lied."

 

They lay down together. He pulled the covers up over them,

 

took her in his arms, drew her close, and kissed her with

 

more tenderness than passion.

 

"You're very small," he whispered against her lips. "Did

 

I hurt you the other night?"

 

"No." He angled his head back and looked at her suspiciously.

 

She ducked her head timidly. "Only a little."

 

His hand curved around her throat; he stroked it with his

 

thumb. "How was I supposed to know you were a virgin?"

 

"You weren't."

 

"How come you were, Alex?"

 

She tilted her head to one side and gazed up at him. "Are

 

the reasons why so important, Reede?"

 

"Only because you let me."

 

"Letting you never entered my mind. It just happened."

 

"Any regrets?"

 

She laid her hand along his cheek and drew his head down.

 

They kissed long and avariciously. His hand had found its

 

way to her breast again by the time he ended the kiss. Pushing

 

back the covers, he watched his fingers caress her nipple.

 

"Reede," she said, her voice tentative, "I'm embarrassed."