Glow (19 page)

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Authors: Beth Kery

BOOK: Glow
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“Yes. And yes,” he said against her neck.

“But even if that were true, they couldn't possibly know that
I
was . . . you know. Addie.”

“Listen to me,” he said abruptly close to her ear. His voice was quiet, but she recognized that steely tone. “I don't have the full picture. There are parts missing. I've been over and over Alan's original will and his current will and trust document. I can't figure out a monetary motive—then or now. The truth about your identity will eventually come out when you're ready. We have to prepare for it in the next few weeks. In the meantime, I'm still trying to figure out who would have had a motive for kidnapping and killing Addie. But that doesn't mean there isn't a potential threat out there. It was only twenty years ago.
Twenty years
. If someone wanted you dead once, there's good reason to assume they'd want it again. If that person was once associated with Cunningham, there's no reason Cunningham couldn't have told him what he told me. There's no telling who Cunningham dribbled the truth out to at the end of his life. It's not like he considered me special. I merely served a purpose to inflate his ego. Talking to me was a diversion from the boredom of prison life. Who else visited him? Did he confess to another prisoner? I'm
not
just being paranoid, Alice. If you take anything away from tonight,
please
let it be that.”

She turned, stunned by his intensity.

“Okay. I'm sorry. It's just . . . Alice Reed's life is a lot simpler than Addie's,” she said shakily, guilt sweeping through her at the memory of how she'd constantly needled and defied him in regard to his protective measures. It was easier to do, before she'd taken her first steps on the long journey of accepting she was Addie Durand.

He exhaled and pressed his forehead against hers. “I know. I understand. Will you please promise not to try to avoid Sal and Josh while you're down at the camp?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

He kissed her mouth, deep and sweet, and she felt him stir against her backside. “It's been a rough night. Go to sleep,” he whispered hoarsely after a moment.

“But . . .”

“Go to sleep,” he repeated. She turned her cheek into the pillow, her mind and body awhirl.

“Alice?”

“Yes?”

“I can only imagine how hard this is for you. I'm proud of you.”

“Thanks.”

She closed her eyes. Her world still felt off-kilter, but repeating Dylan's words again and again in her head kept her steady.

*   *   *

SHE
awoke in a split second, the sensation of Dylan's full, flagrant erection pressing against her bare bottom yanking her quickly and completely from the realm of sleep. The room was dark. His mouth moved against her neck, hot and voracious. He bit gently on her earlobe, his front teeth scraping her sensitive skin. She shivered in pleasure. The bedside light suddenly switched on to a dim setting.

“I want to see you,” he muttered roughly, pulling his arm back. He spoke near her ear, amplifying her shivers. “You're too much
of a temptation. I waited for most of the night, but I have to have you before you go. I'm that selfish.”

She moaned as he pressed his lips to her pulse and lowered.

“Then I'm just as selfish,” she whispered. “Because I wanted this from the second you came to bed.”

“I was being sensitive.”

“You can be sensitive and horny at once, can't you?”

She felt his breath puff against her skin and heard his gruff bark of laughter. “We really need to communicate better.”

She turned in his arms. His mouth rained kisses on her chest, making her nipples tighten. She dug her fingers into his thick hair and urged him to her breasts. He made a rough sound in his throat and rolled partially onto her, pinning her down to the mattress. He sucked a nipple into his mouth, laving it with his tongue. Her clit pinched in arousal. She tangled her fingers deeper into his hair and arched her back, offering herself to him, crying out in pleasure.

“Stop twisting around,” he growled amusedly. He molded both of her breasts in his hands, applying a slight downward pressure, keeping her steady for his onslaught. He slipped her other nipple into his mouth and drew on her. His obvious rabid hunger fueled her own arousal. She abandoned herself to the need mounting inside her. It felt so hot and delicious, the wet tug on her nipple and his rubbing tongue making her clit ache. She wanted his tongue there between her thighs, slippery and firm, licking her clit until she was in a frenzy of need. Just the thought of it made her hurt. She slid a hand between her thighs, finding the cleft between her labia warm and moist. For a moment, she rubbed herself while he squeezed her breasts gently and sucked first one nipple, and then the other.

His hand gripped her forearm. He ran it down until his fingertips found her first two fingers pressing against her clit. She paused in playing with herself, thinking he'd stop her. Dylan liked to be the one to be in control of her pleasure. She loved that about him.
But instead of halting her, he lowered his hand and plunged his middle finger inside her. Alice moaned and rubbed her clit harder.

He lifted his head slightly, his lips making a sucking sound as her breast popped out of his mouth. He lashed the sensitized crest with the tip of tongue.

“Let's communicate now,” he said gruffly after a moment, his lips feathering over her wet nipple. “Tell me what you want.”

“Your mouth on me,” she said, the truth too sharp to keep inside her for long.

“Well, I want my cock in your mouth, so we're going to have to compromise,” he said, a dark thread of humor in his tone. He moved quickly, withdrawing his finger, sitting up, and spinning onto his hands and knees, his head toward the foot of the bed. Alice watched as he straddled her and positioned himself over her, his groin hovering over her face. She shifted her pillow and her head, aligning herself, and reached for him eagerly.

He didn't immediately lower between her thighs. Instead, he watched her. Feeling his gaze on her while she stared at his cock tenting the front of his pajama bottoms excited her. She started to lower his waistband.

“There's a fly. Pull it through,” he instructed her gruffly.

She found the opening in the pajamas and plunged her hand in, fisting his shaft. He felt warm and hard and so good. She jacked him a few times, her fingers lingering of the bulbous, smooth head.

“God, I love your cock.”

“It returns the sentiment completely.” He roughly pulled her hand out of his fly.

“Hey—”

“You're not moving fast enough. I want your mouth on me. Now,” he grated out. He maneuvered his naked cock through the hole and bunched the fabric around his balls. It stuck out at a right angle from his body, looking both intimidating and exciting. He cupped his erection from below. “Open your mouth.”

Arousal tore through her at his harsh demand. She loved it when his control began to fray. She parted her lips, saliva gathering on her tongue. He lowered his hips, guiding his cock into her waiting mouth. His cockhead pierced her, forcing her lips to stretch. She clamped him hard. He moaned and pushed the shaft onto her tongue.

“Suck, baby. Suck that cock.”

She did, for all she was worth, her mouth and lips aching at the effort. She was so hungry for him, she lifted her head.

“Put your head back on the pillow,” he demanded. “I'm going to come to you. Stay still.”

He pulsed his hips, pushing his cock several inches in and out of her mouth. Now that he was fixed in her, he put his hand back on the bed, steadying himself. He continued to watch her as he fucked her mouth shallowly, his tight focus driving her mad with excitement. He pulsed his hips faster, although he refrained from going deep. She sucked so hard, her cheeks hollowed out.

“Such a hot little mouth. Do you like having it fucked?” he asked, his voice thick with arousal.

She moaned her assent, her mouth too full of turgid, thrusting cock to do anything else.

“Use your hand for the bottom,” he said tersely. She gripped the lower part of his shaft and pumped him in unison with his thrusting hips. “God, that's good,” he groaned roughly. “Spread your thighs, Alice.”

She opened her legs wider on the mattress. He used his fingers to part her labia, and then his tongue slid into the cleft. She'd anticipated the moment so acutely, but nevertheless an electrical shock of pleasure went through her at his first touch. His mouth covered her, his lips applying a firm pressure on her outer sex. He applied a slight suction, his tongue stabbing and pressing against her clit, sliding and rubbing. She screamed, his plunging cock stifling her anguished bliss.

Everything blended in her brain, the sensation of his thrusting cock, his male taste, her own exquisite pleasure. The moment enfolded her. It insulated her from the harsh realities she was learning about herself, it protected her from her grief.

She took him deeper, because his pleasure was hers, the pulse in his cock matching the hammering in her ears, his harsh groans the voice of her ecstasy. They were one in those moments, a single, throbbing nerve.

He twisted his face slightly as he applied suction, the small, taut gesture sending her over the edge. He flexed his hips back, sliding his cock out of her mouth. Climax blasted through her. The scream that had been trapped in her throat was liberated. He continued to eat her with greedy focus while she came, laving her clit hard with his stiffened tongue.

She blinked her eyes open dazedly a moment later, her shudders waning. He'd turned and was crouching over her, his head facing hers. He was naked now, the warm glow of the bedside lamp gilding his skin. His arm muscles bulged as he held himself off her. His pelvis dipped downward. She gasped as he entered her. Instinctively, she bent her knees and lifted her feet off the bed, opening her body to better fit his heavy arousal. He snarled as he slid in her to the hilt, his facial muscles tight with pleasure.

He began to move, taking her with thorough, deep strokes, their stares locked. She read something in his gleaming eyes that made her desperate. She dug her fingertips into his dense shoulder muscles, straining to keep pace with him.

“If you were feeling like you didn't belong anywhere earlier when we talked, you can stop right now,” he bit out. Her face tightened with emotion. How was he always able to read her mind? She gripped him tight as he rocked her harder, their bodies crashing together now, the crescendo reaching its peak. He thrust deep, grinding his pelvis against her outer sex. She moaned shakily
at the sensation of swelling inside her. “Because you belong
here
. You're mine, Alice. And I'm yours,” he said, his eyes fierce.

God, she wanted to believe him.

She felt his cock lurch. As he began to climax, his eyelids clamped shut. He groaned harshly and thrust while he poured himself into her. It moved her indescribably, to witness such a strong, sure man surrender himself so completely.

TWELVE

T
he next day was Saturday, and her duties at Camp Durand were finished by three o'clock. Dylan was taking her to the hospital at four for the genetic testing. She knew they wouldn't get the results for over a month, but she was still more nervous about the blood draw than she was letting on. As usual, she suspected Dylan was aware of her anxiety. They planned to meet at three thirty in the woods that bordered the castle like they had the previous Saturday. Dylan had asked Sal to watch over her for the first part of the trip. Then Dylan would watch her progress through the open field.

But instead, something happened to her that had never yet occurred while she was working at Camp Durand, something that seemed to signify the fact that Addie's and Alice's worlds were indeed moving closer together.

She and Dave were gathering their equipment after archery practice. It was a few minutes before three. The kids had already gone ahead to the cabin to meet up with the weekend supervisor and head over to the beach. Alice was searching for stray arrows at the edge of the field.

“You good?” Dave called to her from a distance. He pointed to the path. “There's something I need to take care of before the kids take off.”

“Yeah, go,” Alice yelled. “You have most of the stuff anyway,” she said, referring to the fact that he carried the bulk of the archery
equipment in two nylon sacks slung over his shoulders. She waved at his departing figure and scanned the edge of the field. In the distant woods, she noticed movement. A figure emerged from the tree line.

She remained still, wariness growing in her as Sal Rigo approached. What had made her bodyguard leave the shadows and seek her out?

“What is it?” she asked when Rigo was close enough for her to see the way the sun turned his graying blond crew cut into a pale silvery gold.

“Mr. Fall has asked that I take you all the way up to the castle.”

“Why?” Alice demanded. “We weren't supposed to meet for another half hour.”

“He didn't say why, I'm sorry.”

It must be important, for Dylan to break protocol like this.

“If you'll follow me?” Rigo asked, his manner stiff and formal. “We'll stick to the woods as much as we can.”

She fell into step beside him. They entered the woods a moment later, taking a worn foot trail Alice had never noticed before. It struck her that Rigo and Peterson, her two assigned guards, must really know these woods and grounds like the back of their hands if they did surveillance in them.

“This must be weird for you,” Alice said as they crossed under the canopy of the trees.

“What?” Rigo asked, turning his chin over his shoulder to see her. The path wasn't large enough for them to walk side by side.

“Hanging out with me, when you're so used to slinking around in the shadows.”

He faced forward again, his stride never breaking. “I'm just doing my job, ma'am.”

“Did you already know the layout of these woods? Before you came to Camp Durand to . . . you know. Follow me?”

“My job is to watch over you as best I can while the camp is
under way,” he corrected shortly. “And the answer is yes. A few of us who work in Durand security are trained for the estate. We provide security during a lot of company functions here. We need to know every square inch of the property.”

“Do you like it?” He turned his chin over his shoulder again. “Your job. Do you like working in Durand security?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Not very chatty, are you?” she said under her breath, jogging to keep up with his long-legged pace. He must have noticed, because he slowed.

“It's a good company. Mr. Fall is a good boss, even though he's not my direct boss.”

“Kehoe is, right?”

“Mr. Hintzen is my department head. Mr. Kehoe is only my supervisor while I'm here at camp.”

“When Dylan isn't overriding his orders?” Rigo gave her an impassive glance over his shoulder that seemed like an affirmation. “You don't like him, do you?”

“Who?”

“Kehoe,” Alice said breathlessly as they emerged from the woods into the sunny meadow.

“It's not my place to like or dislike him.”

“You don't.”

She assumed she was right when he didn't argue.

She was curious about the man who had been lurking around all this time, watching her. He seemed to shy away from questions about his assigned mission, though. Undeterred, she jogged up next to him.

“What do you think of Bang?”

He looked a little startled.

“What do I think of
bang
?”

“Yeah. You know, the goat from Camp Wildwood. Do you think Kehoe will come down hard on kids if they sneak over there?”

“Why are you asking me?”

“Because you're a Camp Durand manager in addition to watching over me. You hang around Kehoe and the others all the time. You must have
some
inside scoop.”

He seemed to consider this for a moment as they walked.

“No. Mr. Kehoe has a pretty tolerant attitude about it. Kids have been stealing and returning that statue for years.”

“That's what I thought,” Alice said as they entered the woods again. A moment later, they broke the tree line and trudged up the steep slope of the side yard of the castle.

He halted at the edge of the stone terrace and nodded toward the patio doors. “They're open. He's in the den.”

“Thanks. Nice getting to know you,” she added drolly, because getting to know Rigo was like familiarizing yourself with a walking rock.

“You aren't easy to guard,” he stated bluntly.

“I'll try to be easier, now that we're such good friends.”

“Don't be too easy. You're observant. Quick. Those aren't things you should change.”

Maybe she was wrong about the rock thing, because the stone gave her a small smile before he turned away.

*   *   *

ALICE
pulled up short ten feet away from Dylan's den when the door whipped open. Thad stalked out, looking tense and preoccupied. He halted upon seeing her, seeming as startled as she was.

“Alice.”

“Thad. What are you doing here?”

She heard a solid tread on the wood floor.

“He was just leaving,” Dylan said as he crossed the threshold. “I'm going to see him out. Go on in and make yourself comfortable, Alice.” Before Alice could think of anything to say, she was staring at both men's retreating backs.

Dylan returned a moment later, shutting the door quietly behind him. Her heart jumped when he locked it.

Alice watched him over her shoulder as he approached and went behind his desk. He was dressed for work at the office. He wore a dark gray suit that was perfectly tailored to his tall muscular frame. His dark hair was groomed immaculately, the hairline at his nape crisply trimmed. Had he gotten his hair cut today? When he'd escorted her from the castle early this morning, his thick, lustrous hair had been mussed and wild from her delving fingers, his jaw and lip shadowed with whiskers. He'd smelled of spice and outdoor air and sex.

She was a little intimidated by the reappearance of the business mogul. Her stomach felt tight and hollow. She'd chosen to sit in one of the leather chairs in front of the massive desk. While she waited, she'd noticed his discarded glasses on the blotter along with several reports opened to various pages, as though he'd been comparing numbers. It suddenly struck as he sat why she felt anxious. The situation had reminded her of her nerve-wracking interview with him last spring.

“Why did you ask Thad to come up here? Did you threaten him again?”

“I'm more concerned about what threat he poses to us, to be honest,” he replied dryly. He noticed her mutinous glance. “He's admitted to following you at times without your knowledge, Alice.”

“I told you he's infatuated with me. It doesn't make him a bad guy,” she said, uncomfortable with the information despite her continued defense of Thad.

“Do you ever see Schaefer talking privately or behaving suspiciously in any way with anyone on this list?”

Her pique of irritation evaporated as she leaned forward to better see the piece of paper Dylan had shoved toward her. “I don't even know who some of these people are,” she said, confused. “Who's Meg Everett?”

“She was a good friend of Lynn Durand's. She still lives in Morgantown. Her husband, Rob, is a Durand exec.”

“Oh, this is the
list
. The one you were telling me about last night, the list of people who could potentially have hired Cunningham and Stout, were around at the time of the kidnapping, and possibly knew our whereabouts on that day?”

He nodded. She peered again at the list.

“Why would Thad be talking to Meg Everett? Or
Sidney Gates
?” she asked incredulously, re-skimming the list. Some of the people she recognized as camp employees, but most of the names made no sense in regard to association with Thad.

“You're under the impression that Thad doesn't know Sidney personally?”

She shrugged and tossed the now memorized list back on the blotter. “I don't know.” It bothered her, hearing about this secretive side of Thad. “Although he obviously knows who Sidney is, given what he told me the other night about Sidney objecting to you becoming CEO of Durand. And he seemed to recognize Sidney at the party.”

He nodded, watching her from beneath his lowered brow like a hawk. “Because Sidney says he's never met Schaefer. Sidney was talking to you the other night at the Alumni Dinner. You looked upset. What did he say?”

“Is
that
why you asked me to come up here early?” she asked, bewildered.

“I'd like an answer.”

She sighed. “He was saying some stuff about Alan and Lynn Durand. Just about how they had trouble getting pregnant, and how much it upset Lynn.” Dylan looked especially somber. “It was fine. I wasn't upset,” Alice lied. “
He
doesn't seem to think I'm so fragile that I can't hear about the Durands. In fact, he thinks I should see him on a professional basis and talk about Alan and Lynn more.”

“He said that?” Dylan asked very quietly.

“Yes. Not because he thinks I'm a potential resident for the local insane asylum. Because he thinks it'd be healthy for me. Helpful. Don't you?” she asked, confused by his manner. Was he actually suspicious of
Sidney
now?

He didn't speak for several seconds, his gaze fixed on his desk.

“Yes, I suppose I do,” he finally replied. He lifted one hand and gave her a beckoning gesture. “Come here.”

“What?” she asked, taken off guard by his request.

“Come. Here,” he repeated, quietly but succinctly.

She rose from her chair, her pulse starting to throb at her throat. Sunlight glowed through the partially closed blinds on the windows behind his desk.

She came up next to him. Holding her stare, he rolled back the large leather wingback desk chair in which he sat. She gulped at the vision of male power he made, the strength of his chest, shoulders, and thighs evident beneath his tailored suit. Her gaze lingered on his gray and white silk tie and the crisp, snowy dress shirt beneath it. She recalled how on the day of her interview, she'd had a vivid, shockingly inappropriate fantasy of unbuttoning his shirt and sliding her hand against dense, ridged muscles gloved by smooth, warm skin. Her glance lowered further still.

Had she gleaned somehow even back then, what their future held?

“What is it?” she asked uncertainly, jerking her gaze off his crotch.

“I hadn't realized until yesterday that you'd had such a clear memory of Lynn that night in the hall,” he said. “Of the bracelet.” He reached into his top desk drawer and withdrew a dark red velvet box. He handed it to her.

Alice opened the box, and there it was: the bracelet in waking reality.

She swallowed thickly and touched it. It was like a cuff, but it was supple and flexible. Delicate vines and leaves surrounded it,
but intertwined in the webwork of finely wrought gold were interspersed . . .

“Sunflowers,” she murmured. “They turn their faces to the sun. I remember . . .”

“What?” Dylan asked when she faded off.

“Someone telling me that.
Her
, I think.”

She met his stare, her eyes burning. Miraculously, she'd been granted another tidbit of memory.

“There are more of her things, besides the bracelet and the pearls. They're yours anytime you want them.”

“The pearls you gave me the other night? They were hers?”

He nodded once. “I wasn't sure if you were ready to know then. I am now.”

She studied the bracelet intently, trying to keep him from seeing the tears that had swelled in her eyes. She cleared her throat. “I thought you gave them to me to make me look like a rich heiress or something,” she mumbled.

“What?” he asked, clearly confused.

She sniffed. “It's not important. I didn't really believe that anyway,” she said honestly. “Just my insecurity talking.”

“Do you want me to put it on you?” he asked after a pause.

“Please.” She handed him the exquisite bracelet and set the box down on the desk. She extended her arm, and he fastened the bracelet around her wrist. Alice lifted her hand and let the ambient sunlight flicker among the vines. She looked at Dylan and beamed.

“You're happy?” he asked quietly.

“Very,” she said. It was impossible to stop grinning, even though her eyes still brimmed with tears.

He reached for her hand. “Come here,” he said again.

She kicked off her flip-flops and straddled his legs, her bare knees pressing against the soft leather seat. She came down in his lap, facing him. He opened his hands on her ass and scooted her closer on his thighs. He enfolded her into his arms. She hugged
him back tight, her chin resting on his shoulder. She felt so
full
of something: Gratitude. Wonder. Joy.

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