He leads me out of the shower and wraps me in a towel, tenderness in his eyes, in his touch, that has nothing to do with sex. It’s about intimacy. It’s about the emotional whirlwind we share compliments of our families, and each other. Returning the favor he’s given me, I grab a towel and knot it at his hips, which earns me one of his sexy smiles. His fingers snag mine and he leads me to the bedroom, and bed, where he’s thankfully already moved the guns out of sight. “Where’s Cody?” I ask as he pulls the blankets back. “It’s strange to have someone else here.”
“He’s in his suite,” he says. “We’re alone.” We climb into the bed, underneath the soft sheets, facing each other, our legs tangled, and he is hard now, thick, his shaft nestled inside the V of my body, and that burn in my chest has become the burn in my belly. But he is in no rush, the way he was in the office today. He touches my arm, caresses it, the gentleness in him sending a shivering of sensation and random, expanding emotions through me. He kisses me, a soft brush of our mouths. He caresses my nipple. Then he touches my arm again. Tender. Sexy. I never knew a touch on the arm could be so powerful. My hand rests on the hard wall of his chest, over his heart, the feel of it thrumming just plain everything to me right now. His hand curves my hip, palm on my naked backside, and he slides his shaft against me, oh so slowly and sensually. My eyes won’t stay open and my teeth find my bottom lip. And when he presses inside me, stretching me, filling me, there is nothing but sensations and the sounds of our breathing, which is heavy and in unison. He pushes into me slowly, deeply, until I have all of him, and then he just holds me, his hand sliding over my hair and dragging my face to his.
“Have I told you I love you?” he asks.
“Three times,” I say. “And I love you too, so that’s three for me too. I think. Or two.”
His lips curve. “We’re counting?”
“Yes.”
“Then let’s keep counting,” he says. “So we never forget to say it. I love you.”
“Four,” I whisper. “I love you too.”
He pulls his shaft back and drives into me. I gasp. “That’s one,” he says.
“One what?”
“One gasp. One thrust. I hope you aren’t tired after all, because I really need to spend this night inside you. Making love to you, Emily.”
Emily. I am Emily now, not Reagan, and with him, making love to him, is exactly how I want to spend this night. Letting him know that on the eve of a good-bye, he is not alone.
SHANE
Long after Emily has fallen asleep, I lie in bed, holding her, and I’ve decided I was right. As long as I have her with me, I won’t lose the part of me that isn’t my father or my brother. Though I believe I’ve been walking that line these past few days without knowing I was walking it. Thinking like them, not me. But now I’m back, thinking like the calculating, smart attorney who, I am proud to say, was one of the best in the nation. I see things differently than they do. I see potential solutions I did not see yesterday, plans forming in my mind, trying to take root.
Kissing Emily’s head, I slip out of the bed and walk to the closet, pulling on pajama bottoms, then head back to the bedroom to slip my phone into my pocket. I start for the door. “Where are you going?” Emily asks, and I rotate to find her sitting up, clutching the blanket to her chest. “Is something wrong?”
“Nothing at all,” I say, moving to sit next to her. “You’ve inspired me. My mind is working overtime. I have some ideas on how we end this hell we’re in without anyone dying. I just need to work through the plan, which means a lot of pacing and planning. Lie down and rest.”
“I inspired you?”
“Yes.” I caress her cheek. “You did. I’ll explain how later. Rest. I’ll be back to bed soon.” I stand and head toward the door.
“Shane.”
I turn to find her still sitting up. “Yes, sweetheart?”
“Do you want me to pace with you?”
“Many times, but not now. This process of mine is a lonely but effective one.”
“Okay, then just one thought to mull over as you pace. There was a mass grave of fifty people found in Mexico, all beheaded. Ramon is thought to be behind it. While you’re figuring out this plan of yours, if you decide someone has to die, I’d choose him. Before he chooses someone else.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I say, heading down the stairs, aware of how out of character it was for her to speak the dirtiness of those words, and how certain I am they would haunt her should she learn of his death. But she’s right. Ramon still has to die, but this has to be my secret with Seth. My cross to bear.
DEREK
I lie in the bed with Teresa next to me, curled to my side, staring at the ceiling. Ted’s naked, bloody body haunts me. I’ve tried to get it out of my mind, but guilt grinds through me, proving to be a vicious monster. It wants to finish the job of destroying me. The one I started myself by allowing our involvement with Martina. Ironically, had we not though, Teresa would not be next to me now. And I love this woman. I’ve tried to deny it. I tried to fuck her out of my system, and when that didn’t work, I went to other women, reminding myself of the pleasure of variety. She knew too. I made sure Teresa knew I’d been with other women, drenching myself in their perfume, thinking she’d leave me, or maybe it was just that window of time, when I had a death wish no one knows about, even her.
But she just kept hanging on to me, and now I don’t seem to be able to let go of her. Which means I can’t let go of me. And it sucks because love sucks. I mean, look how well that’s worked for my parents. It hasn’t worked. Neither has me trying to get their departure to Germany out of my mind tonight. My father’s a bona fide bastard, but tomorrow might be the last time I see him. Then there is my mother. Her many betrayals are too raw for me to claim any objectivity, but the idea of her being alone with my father, the man she’s loved all her life, when he dies, is a brutal thought. But so is leaving with them, and allowing my father to survive his cancer, and lose his company.
My cell phone vibrates on the nightstand, and I grab it, noting Shane’s number. “What’s wrong?” I answer softly, standing and walking into the bathroom to keep from waking Teresa.
“You’re with Teresa.”
And he’s officially in high-and-mighty mode. “What the hell do you want, Shane?”
“What if I said I have a plan to get us out of this and you get to keep seeing her?”
I go still. “I’m listening.”
“Not on the phone. After the airport in the morning.” He ends the call.
I walk back into the bedroom to find Teresa awake, the light now on, her pale pink gown covering her knees that she’s pulled to her chest. “I have millions of dollars in a trust.”
“What?”
“Enough that we can run away and be together.”
I’m stunned by her words, but more so by how much this woman loves me despite all I have let myself become, and all I have done to her. I sit down next to her, drawing her hand in mine. “No,” I say. “We aren’t running. And we aren’t using your money. I have money. I’ll take care of you. That’s what I’m supposed to do for my woman. It’s the one thing my father did teach me right. The one thing he did right by my mother.”
“You’re a target because of me. Adrian and Ramon hate you just for being with me. We have to get out of sight and out of mind.”
“Shane and I have a plan. Everything is going to be okay, and we’re okay.”