Caress Part Three (Arcadia Book 3) (6 page)

Emma wasn’t in the apartment when I got there. Late
afternoon sunlight flowed through the high windows into the empty living room. I
could hear the faint drone of traffic from below but otherwise there was only
silence echoing in a space that felt far too big without her.

I frowned. Why wasn’t she back yet? Were the girls still at
lunch? If they were running this late, more than a few mimosas or whatever were
likely to be involved. Maybe I should pick her up.

I pulled out my phone and hit her number. The call went
straight to voice mail. Damn! Why hadn’t I put security on her the moment she
agreed to go the gala? I’d known that there would be photographs. They could
have drawn the attention of any number of weirdos. Not to mention the potential
danger to her if her father really was back in the city.

I speed dialed Caroline. My sister answered on the second
ring.

“Hey, bro’. Whazzup?”

I hesitated. Caro had that in-the-zone tone that she got
whenever she was deep into a heavy duty coding project. Usually, she didn’t
bother to pick up then but apparently she was making an exception for me.

Quickly, I said, “I’m at the apartment. Emma isn’t here. Any
idea where she went after lunch?”

“Nope… Walk? Shopping?”

“Maybe…”

Something in my own voice must have alerted her that my
curiosity was more than casual. She was a lot more focused as she asked,
“What’s going on?”

I ran a hand through my hair and sighed. “Probably nothing.
I’m just a little anxious, that’s all.”

“You? Mister Has-Ice-Water-In-His-Veins? You never let
anything get to you.”

That wasn’t true. I was just good at hiding it. Especially
from a younger sister who I’d never wanted to have to worry about anything.

“Yeah, well, things change. I’m just concerned about her,
that’s all.”

Silence for a moment as her razor-sharp brain processed
that. “She seemed fine at lunch. A little pre-occupied maybe but nothing more.”

“She’s had a lot of practice concealing her emotions.” Pot.
Kettle. Maybe I should have tried opening up to her more. If I had, she might
have trusted me enough to tell me whatever was bothering her.

“Because of the thing with her father a few years ago? That
must have sucked but she seems to have come through it okay.”

My sister paused again, then added, “She’s a smart,
gorgeous, funny, genuinely nice human being of the female persuasion. And she’d
got real feelings for you. I hope you’re smart enough to realize that.”

Relationship advice from my baby sister? Coming on top of the
same from Feeney the Tattooed Fed? How had I fallen this low?

But I was smiling despite myself. “I’m glad you like her. I
figured that you would.”

“I really do…which is why I really hope that I didn’t say
anything out of turn.”

Caro say something she shouldn’t have? Only every other time
she opened her mouth. My sister was nothing if not candid but she didn’t have a
mean bone in her body. I’d never heard her utter a malicious word about anyone
or seen her act out of spite. So what was she worried about?

“You? What could you have said?”

“I might have mentioned something about the repairs to your
loft being almost finished.”

That didn’t sound so bad. “Did you?”

“Yeah and… I might have asked if you and Emma would be
moving in there together.” Quickly, she added, “I wasn’t trying to start
anything, honestly. I just wanted some idea about how serious she is about you
since you really seem to care about her.”

I wouldn’t mind knowing that either. Emma’s insistence at
the beginning of our relationship that we were strictly temporary still bugged
the hell out of me.

I told myself that we’d evolved since then. Roller coaster
rides, blazing hot sex--
she let me spank her and didn’t deck me!--
and
all the conversation, laughs and what not that we’d shared had seen to that.
But I still didn’t know for sure that she’d changed her mind.

The plain fact was that she knocked me off balance in a way
that I’d never experienced before, not remotely.

No woman could be more passionate and giving in bed or anywhere
else. I’d never felt anything close to what I did with her and I sure as hell
didn’t want to ever go looking for it anywhere else.

She was it for me. Realizing that should have been
terrifying and it was in a way. The thought of her being hurt or frightened or
simply unhappy felt like a knife twisting in my gut. But admitting how I felt also
made me feel rock steady. I had a clear path into a future that I wanted more
than anything. All I had to do was figure out how to get us both there.

“Anything else?” I asked. “Might as well make a full
confession while you’re at it.”

In a rush, my sibling said, “I told Emma that Mom is coming
back from London and is looking forward to meeting her.”

That was more serious. I loved my mom but a couple of her
friends had become grandmothers in the last few years. To hear her tell it,
there was no greater joy in the world to, as she put it, “hold a precious
grandchild in your arms and know that everything you’ve ever gone through in
your life has been worthwhile.”

Apparently, Jared, Caro and I were just necessary stepping
stones on the way to the ultimate, hallowed state of grandmother-hood. Who knew
all those years growing up surrounded by maternal love? She was just bidding
her time.

 “And Mom knows about Emma how?” I asked cautiously.

“Jeez, how would I know? The photos from the gala? Or I
might possibly, I can’t quite recall, have said something… You’re not upset,
are you?”

“Of course I’m not,” I assured her. If Emma really was off
somewhere thinking about moving in with me and meeting my mother, I’d be relieved.
However anxious that might make her, I could deal with it. Still, I wasn’t
about to let my sister off the hook that easily.

“I’ll just return the favor when you’re finally serious
about someone,” I said.

Caro snorted. “Don’t hold your breath, big bro’. I’d rather
cuddle up with a warm laptop than any man I’ve met.”

I had mixed feelings about that. The last thing I wanted was
for Caro to ever settle for someone but I didn’t want her to be alone either. I
could worry about my sister’s love life later. First, I had my own to
straighten out.

I got off the phone a few minutes later and tried Emma’s
number again. It still wasn’t answering. Could she possibly be any more
frustrating?

I needed to think--calmly and rationally, two states of mind
that thoughts of Emma definitely did not encourage.

It was a beautiful day. She’d had few chances to get out of
the apartment. Why couldn’t I accept that she might have just gone for a walk?

Because she was worried and worse. Spooked, as I’d told
Feeney. She was out there somewhere, coping with god-only-knew what. And she’d
left me helpless to do anything about it.

Obeying an impulse that I hadn’t know I could possess, I was
about to hurtle my cell into the nearest wall when the doors at the front of
the apartment opened. The object of all my frustration and concern walked in.

“Where have you been?” Lucas demanded. He was standing in
the center of the living room. His suit jacket hung open, exposing the hard
expanse of his chest beneath the crisp white business shirt and a tie that must
have been tugged on multiple times. His dark, thick hair was mussed, as though
he’d been running his hands through it.

But it was the look in his eyes that made my breath catch. The
scorching mix of fury and fear radiating from him shocked me. Before its
impact, I felt stripped bare. How could I possibly hope to hide anything from
him?

Somehow, I had to find away. If I didn’t, he would walk into
deadly danger. Hell, being Lucas, he’d run.

Turning to shut the doors behind me, I tried to compose
myself. When I looked back at him, he had calmed somewhat but his gaze was
still intense.

Deliberately keeping my voice low, I said, “I had lunch with
Caroline and Imogene, remember?”

“You should have been back here long before now,” he
snapped. “Why weren’t you?”

My back stiffened. I’d understood virtually from the moment
we met that Lucas was a true alpha male. While I didn’t doubt for a moment that
he genuinely respected women as fully competent, equal human beings, he was
unapologetically driven to command and protect. To my great surprise, a part of
me responded to that. Powerfully.

And another part didn’t. Firmly, I said, “What could
possibly make you think that I should account to you for every moment of my
time?”

I held my ground as he advanced toward me from across the
room, but only barely. The quiver that started low down in my belly spread
quickly. I could feel my nipples hardening even as my breath became shallower
and more urgent.

Close enough to touch me, he stopped. His hands rested on
his lean hips, pushing the suit jacket further apart. Glancing down, I couldn’t
help seeing that, like me, he was becoming aroused.

“Something spooked you yesterday,” he said. His tone was
unrelenting. He wasn’t giving an inch. On the contrary, by all evidence, he
intended for us to have it out there and then.

“You wouldn’t tell me what it was,” he continued, “and now
you disappear for several hours. I couldn’t even reach you. How do you think that
makes me feel?”

For a moment, I was at a loss for words. The flip side of
being so unused to anyone caring about me was that I had no practice in being
responsible to another person. But I couldn’t pretend not to see his point of
view.

“I’m sorry you were worried,” I said sincerely. “I turned my
phone off before lunch. I’ll have to remember to keep it on.”

My regret was real but the rest wasn’t. If my father was
serious about my going with him, I didn’t imagine for a moment that I’d be
allowed to keep my cell phone. Later, once I’d gained his trust and learned
where he’d moved the money that he’d come back for, I’d find a way to get in
touch with the authorities. Whether Lucas would still want to talk to me at
that point remained to be seen.

I hated lying to him even more than I hated him not
realizing that I was doing so. The fear that I might be as skilled at deception
as my father was made me feel ill.

Despite the tightness in my throat, I couldn’t look away
from him. The taut set of his mouth and the jagged pulse that had leaped to
life in his jaw suggested a measure of concern far beyond any I could account
for.

Without really thinking through what I was inviting, I said,
“You weren’t so tense this morning.”

A snort of disbelief escaped him. Bluntly, he said, “I’ve
got news for you, baby. No guy can manage to be tense that soon after coming as
many times as I did in you last night. Or have you forgotten about that?”

My cheeks flamed. After the kitchen, after the shower, after
tender lovemaking and bagels in bed had come…more. So much more.

My body arching under his, my hands reaching down to grip
his hair as he teased my clit with light, tormenting strokes of his tongue. The
harshness of my voice crying out to him, begging for release. The hard, deep thrust
of his cock, stretching and filling me, obliterating all sense of separation
between us.

I swallowed the sudden flood of salvia in my mouth, all too
aware of how wet I was becoming elsewhere. I had never felt as close to anyone
as I did to Lucas and I never wanted to with anyone else. But not at the cost
of his own well-being.

For three years, I had survived essentially by being
selfish. Thrust solely on my own resources, I’d concentrated on meeting my own
needs to the exclusion of everything else. Being with Lucas had changed all
that. Among everything else he had given me, I had discovered the ability to put
another person first even when doing so brought wrenching pain and loss.

Someday, I’d be grateful for that. But just then, all I
could think of was that time was rushing away from us. Soon none would be left.

My hand shook as gently stroked the curve of his jaw where
the pulse beat. Softly, I said, “Please don’t try to tell me that you’re not
more worried now than you were yesterday or this morning. I’d like to know
why.”

It took nerve to ask that given what I was hiding from him.
But I wasn’t about to let that stop me. To keep him safe, I’d be as shameless
as I needed to be.

He hesitated and for a moment, I thought that he wasn’t going
to answer. But finally, to my great relief, he relented.

Covering my hand with his own, he said, “Let’s sit down.”

As he drew me over to the couch, I tried not to remember how
it had felt to lie there that first day with my wrists bound, waiting to
discover what he intended to do with me. Steering clear of such thoughts became
more difficult when Lucas entwined his fingers with mine and gently brushed his
lips across my knuckles. The touch, light as it, sent curls of pleasure through
me and made me almost miss what he said next.

“I talked with a guy at the F.B.I. today.”

My whole body stiffened but instead of trying to jerk away
from him, my fingers tightened on his. “W-what? Why?”

 “Because you told me that the Feds still reach out to you
from time to time. I thought they might have done so yesterday and that was why
you were spooked.”

 “They didn’t.” I spoke automatically, my mind grabbling
with the fact that he had a contact at the F.B.I.

Maybe I should have anticipated that, given what he’d told
me about them keeping tabs on him, too. But I hadn’t. The discovery that such a
person existed sent a flare of panic through me.

What had Lucas been able to learn? Did he already know that
my father was in New York? If so, all my efforts to keep him safe could be for
nothing

 “Then what did happen?” he asked.

Relief flooded through me. He wouldn’t be pressing me in any
such way if he already knew the answer.

Instead, he was waiting, giving me every possible chance to
open up to him and tell him the truth. The words twisted in me, desperate to
get out. Only my determination to protect him gave me the strength to remain
silent.

“All right…” he said at length.

I could still sense his anger and frustration but they were
more restrained. The control that he was so very good at exercising over
himself and--if I was being honest--over me as well was once more in evidence.

“If you won’t talk to me, at least listen,” he said. “There
are things you need to know.”

I nodded. Listening was definitely safer than talking. “What
things?”

His expression softened. Beneath the hard silver glint of
his gaze, I saw compassion and genuine concern.

Quietly, he said, “I found out why the F.B.I. has believed
all these years that your father is still alive.”

“Did you?” Even to my own ears, my voice sounded high and
weak. I did want to move away then, to put some distance between us. But Lucas
wouldn’t let me go.

Still holding my hand gently but firmly, he said, “Six
months before his apparent suicide, your father went to Vegas. He met there
with a man named Hiram Walker…”

I listened as he explained how my father had hired the
magician to create the illusion of his own death. I’d realized that he must
have done something since contrary to all evidence, he was very much alive. But
the details of exactly how he had managed to fool almost everyone, including
me, were still shocking.

Even after I’d accepted the truth of my father’s guilt, I’d
consoled myself that whatever his crimes, he’d been as unprepared as everyone
else when his massive fraud collapsed. But now I had to confront the ugly
truth.

He’d anticipated that it couldn’t last and he’d planned
accordingly. While he set up other people to suffer devastating losses, he’d
been meticulous about creating an exit plan for himself, even to the extent of
arranging an elaborate illusion to make it appear as though he was dead.

How many times had I watched that the video of his ‘suicide’
before I finally forced myself to stop? The moment when my father’s blood and
brains exploded from his skull was indelibly etched into my consciousness. In
the aftermath, I’d cried until I was sick from tears, vomiting up my grief and
horror.

Now that I knew it had all been an elaborate trick, my
revulsion was even greater.

Lucas gave me a few moments before he said, “The agent I
spoke with is named Sean Feeney. He’s a good guy, smart and very professional.
I’d like to put you in touch with him.”

Because he hoped that I might tell Feeney what I wouldn’t
tell him? The thought made my heart clench. I didn’t trust anyone as much as I
did Lucas, even if I hadn’t let him know it.

He was waiting for an answer that I couldn’t give. Faced
with it, I grabbed for a distraction. “How do you know Feeney?”

I actually was curious about that but far more importantly,
I wanted Lucas to think that I was at least considering talking with the agent.
Yet more deception. I fought to conceal how sick that made me feel inside.

“We met in the aftermath of my father’s death,” he said
quietly. I got the sense that he had anticipated my question and was prepared
to answer it honestly.

“As you know,” he went on, “I was in a battle against a
group of investors, your father among them, who were looking to take over my
family’s company. To stop them, I needed money, a lot of it. I borrowed it from
a man named Yuri Volkov. He’s what’s politely known as an ‘oligarch’ but some
people have less kind words to describe him.”

I could only begin to imagine what it cost Lucas to tell me
that. My father had called Volkov a mobster. If he really was, anyone who did business
with him was at risk of being seen as equally immoral.

But the fact was that I simply didn’t care. While I wasn’t
generally an ends-justify-the-means sort of person, in this case I was more
than willing to make an exception.

Quickly, I said “You did what you had to. No one could blame
you for that.”

No one except my father. He’d made it clear that he held
Lucas responsible for what were strictly his own crimes. His inability to
accept the blame for what he had done or show any remorse made me fear that he
wasn’t entirely sane.

And made me dread all the more what he might do.

Lucas was studying me carefully. Belatedly, I realized that
as much as my willingness to exonerate him so readily must come as a relief, it
also puzzled him. I held my breath, afraid he might ask why I was being so
forgiving.

But finally he said, “Sean Feeney would have disagreed. He was
new in the agency and looking to make his mark. He found out who I’d gotten the
money from and he reached out.”

“To threaten you?”

The idea seemed to amuse him. “More like to warn me. There
was no need. Yuri and I had agreed in advance that the money had to be clean.
So was what I did with it.”

He hesitated, then said, “I want you to know that I paid
Volkov back quickly and in full. He’s a valued client but I’m not beholden to
him in any way.”

Since I had trouble imagining Lucas allowing himself to be
indebted to any man, this hardly came as a surprise. As for the rest… “What
about Feeney? Did you stay in touch after that?”

Lucas nodded. “Sean’s a good guy. Whenever I get down to
Washington, we find time for a game of handball or a little sparring. He’s got
a mean left hook.”

Slowly, I came to terms with what he was really telling me.
Lucas was more than merely acquainted with an F.B.I. agent; he was friends with
one. And now he wanted me to talk to him.

No, not just wanted. More likely, he was prepared to insist.
The man could be damn persuasive when he set his mind to it.

With very little effort, he could turn me into a writhing
mass of sexual arousal incapable of holding a single thought in my head beyond
the need to come. Right before he sent me straight off the cliff into a
soul-exploding orgasm that melted every iota of resistance in my body and left
me unable to refuse him anything.

Battling the carnal direction of my thoughts, I glanced over
toward the windows. The light angling through them cast golden shadows across
the living room. The effect was really quite lovely but it opened a well of
sadness in me.

I had a sense not merely of time passing but of it passing
through me, a quicksilver kind of energy, precious but fleeting. No matter how
desperately I wanted to hold onto it, nothing I could do would change its
swift, remorseless flow.

Tomorrow would come.

And when it did, I would go with my father. I’d play the
loving daughter and pretend to enjoy my new life while I did my utmost to
discover the whereabouts of the money that he had come to New York to reclaim.
Not just so that it could be used to help his victims but so that it wouldn’t
be available to him to buy large men with guns willing to do his bidding.

I wouldn’t stop until I was certain that he was no longer a
danger to Lucas or anyone else. No matter how long that took or what I had to
do.