WILL TIME WAIT: Boxed set of 3 bestselling 'ticking clock' thrillers (24 page)

We
shared an inquisitive look.

“No
rush.”  I struggled to remember why I’d wanted to be on my own.

Lee
removed his jacket and, using a long throw, tossed it onto the sofa in the
dining room.  His gaze swung around the room before coming back to me. 

My
heart caught for the second time this evening.  Just being in the same
room as him, made my body sizzle.

He
sidestepped me.

I
twisted around to face him, my back lightly pressing against the cool
fridge. 

He
stroked the arm of my dressing gown, and it slipped to one side.  His gaze
fell straight to my shoulder.  “What happened to you?  You’ve cut
yourself.”

“I
fell in the road.”

“What? 
When?”

I
pulled my sleeve up over my shoulder and pinched my gown together across my
chest.  “I was checking inside vehicles along the street after the photo
arrived.  I slipped and a car drove by.  It’s just a graze.”

Before
I spoke another word, he jerked my sleeve back down and began examining me for
further cuts.  He had the unmistakeable look in his eye of someone who was
boiling up with anger.  “Jesus, Chelsea.  Did the car hit you?”

“No. 
I dodged out of the way.”

“They
could have killed you.  What the hell were you thinking, chasing after
them?”

“I
just wanted to know who dropped the photo off.”

Lee
ground his jaw side to side and his eyes shone with enough fury to release a
flare.  He breathed in deeply through his nose, then kissed the skin
around my sore shoulder before pulling my sleeve back up.  “Perhaps
waiting isn’t the right thing.  I should phone the police tonight.”

Trying
to meet his eyes was like following a bouncing ball.  “And say what? 
I don’t know if the blackmailer was driving.”  I had to calm him.  He
seemed to have taken the near miss on my life to heart, far more deeply than I
thought he would.  He looked ready to storm out of the house and beat
someone up.  I stroked his shoulder.  “It could have been anyone.”

Eventually,
he looked at me.  “Who else would it be?”

“A
neighbour, a visitor...  I was on the ground.  The driver might not
have seen me.  Besides, what is the point in killing me?  If I were
dead, Laura wouldn’t get the photo.”

“Don’t
talk that way, Chelsea.  Dead.  Hell!  It makes me feel sick to
the stomach.  Someone tried to run you over.  Even if it was a neighbour,
which I doubt, the situation caused this.  Did you get a look at the
car?  The driver?  License plate?”

“No. 
The headlights were bright.  I couldn’t see.”

He
stroked my arm lightly, then clenched a fist.  “Ugh.  I should’ve
been here.  Or you should have come to my house like you said you
would.  Don’t go chasing anyone ever again.  You hear me?”

I
nodded, changed tracks to diffuse his anger.  “What do you think our
chances are now, of proving who’s doing all this?”

He
sipped his drink and lifted a hand to my face.  “Let’s wait and see what
the photo tells me, tomorrow.” 

“Okay. 
But what if you don’t find anything?”

He
breathed out heavily, staring into my eyes.  “Christ!  I could have
lost you tonight.”  The back of his finger glided down the length of my
nose then circled my lips.  I wasn’t naïve.  I knew exactly where
this would lead. 

He
brought his face closer and pressed a palm on the fridge at the side of my
head.  Waves of his warm breath brushed across my face.  He swept his
parted lips near mine, as though testing my reaction. 

I
gasped involuntarily.  I couldn’t resist him much longer. 

He
turned my face to the right.  “I’m gonna catch this filthy scrote,
Chelsea.”  His voice lowered to a steely whisper.  “No one tries to run
you down.”

I’d
completely forgotten my question.  I just wanted him to touch me.  I
needed him.

He
placed a solitary kiss on my neck.  It tingled, sending a delicious
sensation running through me.  Then, a shower of warm kisses flooded my
neck.  My pulse drummed faster with every press of his lips.

I
slid my arm round his back, letting my fingers glide over his clothing. 
He must have tugged my belt because my dressing gown fell open.  Cool air
washed over my chest and stomach.  I stood still, front-naked bar skimpy
black pants. 

After
breaking away to set both cans on the bench, he entwined his fingers with
mine.  His face drew closer until his lips caressed mine, in long,
breathless kisses.  The warmth of his mouth and intoxicating sweet scent
filled my head.  Slowly, he bent down, trailed his lips down the central
line of my body, feeling his way with roaming hands.  He parted my
dressing gown further and tasted every inch of me down to the band of my
knickers. 

“You’re
in my head all the time,” he said, softly, running a finger along the elastic
inside my pants.  He looked up.  “Do you still want me to go?”

Totally
into him, I had no intention of asking him to leave, if anything I was about to
trap him in my house. 

Hot
with desire, I spread my fingers through his glossy hair, dark against my
skin.  I stroked his shoulders.  They were smooth and soft.  In
this moment, I was conscious of nothing except the silkiness of his skin
touching mine. 

He
glanced up from my navel.

A
scrumptious tremor rippled through me seeing an excited glint in his
eyes. 

He
raised his eyebrows in question. 

“Yeah. 
You should definitely leave,” I mocked, gripping his shoulders to drag him back
up. 

“I’ll
be on my way then.”  He rose from his knees, cupped my face and kissed me
hungrily. 

I
needed him.  No, more than that.  I physically craved him.  And,
I yearned for a time-slip to calm in this spinning week of chaos.

The
harder and deeper we kissed, the more I forgot about our problems.  I
grabbed hold of his top, whipped it over his head.  It dropped to the
floor as I pulled his lips back to mine, wanting more. 

In
one fluid motion, he ran his hand over the curve of my shoulder.  My
dressing gown flowed over my skin and dropped to my feet.  He touched my
bare breasts, cupping their fullness.

Melting
from the taste of him, I reached out for his hand.  In just my knickers, I
pulled him to the open door and through to the dining room.  I glanced
over my shoulder.

His
gaze travelled up my body.  A cheeky smile brightened his handsome
face.  The possibility of spending time together, uninterrupted, appeared
as though it would, at last, become a reality.  At this precise moment,
everything seemed perfect. 

The
desire became too much. 

He
tugged my arm.  “To hell with the bedroom.  Get back here.”  He
drew me to him with a wicked impatience that made it impossible to resist, let
alone care about more comfortable surroundings.  I saw only
him
.

We
staggered back into the kitchen, and came to a stop at the worktop where he
whirled me around as though showcasing me in a strictly dance.  After
shoving tea towels, mugs and plates aside, sending some crashing to the floor,
he dragged my pants down to my ankles, leaving me standing in front of him,
naked.  We kissed.  Our lips separated when he lifted me onto the
kitchen bench. 

He
looked into my eyes.  “Have you got a...?”

“In
the junk drawer,” I said, sliding it open. 

His
hands slid over my ribs, down my bare skin, and then nudged my thighs
apart.  While running his tongue over my hard nipples, he unbuckled his
belt in a hurry.  He stepped between my thighs, pressing his hips against
me. 

I
pulled his zip down.  “God, I want you.”

He
kissed and licked my neck.

I
gasped, tightened my legs around him, and then cupped his face in my
hands. 

Lust
sparkled in his sultry eyes.  He rubbed his growing hardness against me,
flashed a smile, and brought his lips back to mine.

A
gentle warmth
tickled my cheek.  I forced one eye to open.  Lee hovered above my
face, leaning over the bed, eclipsing the morning sun.  He was already
dressed.

“Morning
gorgeous.”  He planted his puckered lips on mine.  “Hmmm, you taste
good.  But, I’ve got to go.  I have a date with a photograph, and a
stakeout to organize.” 

I
pushed up on one elbow.  “What do you mean?”

“I’ll
tell you later, if it pays off.  You said you would stay at my house last
night, didn’t you?  Remember? When you were in Laura’s lounge.”

I
nodded.

“So,
Mark thought you wouldn’t be at home last night.  I think that’s why the
photo was dropped through
your
letterbox.”

“Oh
hell!”

He
stroked my hair.  “Exactly.  That’s why I need to get out of
here.  Stuff to do.”

I
groaned and grabbed his arm.  “Stay a little longer.”

“I’ll
phone you later.”  He lifted the bed covers off me.  His adoring gaze
flowed over my body, ending when a cheeky smile curved his lips.  “Last
night… well, I think we need to do that again, don’t you?”

“Yes. 
Right now!”

He
laughed, kissed me one last time, then tore himself away.  Moving with
purpose, he marched to the door, glanced back to wink, then disappeared out of
my bedroom.

My
only consolation was reliving last night’s lust marathon in my head.  I
rolled over in bed, biting the corner of a pillow, unable to shift the blissful
smile from my face at the memory. 

Slowly,
dreadful reality edged its way back in and I banged my fist on the
mattress.  Lazing around in bed a bit longer, feeling on cloud nine, was
more than tempting.  But I couldn’t.  Laura needed my support and I
wanted to give it.

I
got myself ready, grabbed my bridesmaid dress, and drove to Laura’s.

           
When I arrived, I gave her a big hug in the hall.  “Morning.  How are
you holding up?”

           
“Not too bad.  I’ve not received…” Laura changed the conversation when the
stairs creaked.  “I’m so excited about tomorrow!”

Paul
came downstairs and I greeted him. 

When
he moved into the kitchen out of immediate earshot, Laura whispered, “I could
do without a houseful of guests today.”

If
we cancelled the party, the guests, as well as Paul, would bombard Laura with
questions that I knew she couldn’t handle. 

I
patted her shoulder.  “We need to act as though all is well and
good.  I’ll hang up my bridesmaid dress for a start.”

I
carried my belongings upstairs and thought about tomorrow while
unpacking.  I intended to do everything humanly possible to avoid a
showdown so her dream wedding could go ahead.  Stand guard at the church
door.  Frisk Mark, and every other guest, for photos.  Down to their
underwear if necessary.  Even the pensioners. 

Laura
spent the next few hours cleaning obsessively while Paul paced in and out of
rooms.  When I suggested we go for a chat in the garden, Paul entered the
kitchen and spoke with enthusiasm about their honeymoon, which made it
impossible to discuss the problem at all.  His hands groped Laura,
pretending to rub sun cream into her skin.

She
giggled.

I
thumbed through magazines while waiting for Paul to leave the room.

The
doorbell chimed and I looked up from reading the latest ‘Hello’ magazine. 
Laura threw the dishcloth in the sink.  She took a deep breath, rubbed her
face and somehow managed to sculpt an enthusiastic expression for the
visitor. 

“Game
head on,” I whispered.

We
nodded before she walked down the hall, trading a gesture of understanding that
it would be difficult to host a party today.

Laura
opened the front door and greeted our first guest.  “Come in,
Claire.  It’s great to see you.” 

The
house phone rang.  Laura raced into the kitchen and grabbed it.  She
whispered to me to show Claire to a guest room.

I
grabbed one of Claire’s bags and tugged it upstairs.  Her genuinely happy
face reminded me of what someone whose life wasn’t in a pickle looked
like.  I showed her into a guest bedroom, which even A-list celebrities
would have found plush. 

With
diamante-encrusted fingernails, she pulled a bottle of wine out of her
suitcase.  “I’ll open this when I’ve unpacked.  Get us in the party
mood early.”

 
I plastered a smile on my face.  The wedding celebrations were about to
start all too prematurely. 

Laura
must have been wandering in the hall because her phone conversation drifted
upstairs.  “Everything’s fine, Aunt Carol.”  Her tone became
abrupt.  “Please stop fussing.  Why are you apologising?  I’ll
see you in the morning as planned.”

I
perched on the edge of the bed and watched Claire unpack.  She waved
silver Manolo Blahnik stilettos in my face, and brought me up to speed on her
latest gossip.

A
shattering sound came from downstairs. 

I
stood, edged towards the bedroom door and stuck my head out to peer along the
landing. 

“Are
you listening to me?” Claire asked from behind.  “And what was that
noise?”

“Er,
sorry.  I forgot to do something.  You finish unpacking.  I’ll
be back in a bit.”  I shut Claire in the bedroom and tiptoed along the
upstairs landing carpet.  But, when raised voices broke out below, I
dropped into a squat against the stair balcony, gripping the wooden
struts. 

The
voices came from the kitchen.

“What’s
this mean?” Paul asked.  “’Naughty?’  What the hell’s going on,
Laura?”

My
heart leapt into my throat. 

Her
reply came out shaky, weak.  “I… don’t know.” 

“I
don’t recognise the number, do you?”

“Just
delete it and forget it, Paul.”

“You’ve
been acting kind of weird lately, and now I get this.”  He paused. 
“Is there something going on I should know about?”  Paul’s voice rasped
like fingernails scraping down a chalkboard.  I curled my fingers around
my throat, steeling myself for Laura’s response. 

“There’s
nothing going on,” she replied.  “Absolutely nothing.”

I
didn’t know what happened, but figured Laura was lying through her teeth. 

Broken
glass crunched and scraped then more raised voices followed.  It didn’t
take an expert in psychology to sense that something was wrong. 

I
tucked my hair behind my ears and continued eavesdropping, while remaining
still, now on my knees. 

“It’s
one of the girls having a joke,” Laura said.  “This is a pointless
argument.  Now just drop it.  Come here.  Give me a kiss and
tell me you love me.”

“I
love you,” Paul said.  “I love you so, so much, and tomorrow will be the
happiest event of my life.”

Some
moments later, Paul left the room.

I
scooted onto my back out of view, in case he looked upstairs.  A TV jingle
blared, and then faded when the lounge door shut.  I counted to ten then
dashed downstairs.

Laura
was stomping around the kitchen in a mindless fashion, like a bouncing
ball.  I grabbed her shoulders, spun her around, and looked into her dewy
eyes.  Something had zapped the life and light from them again.

“What
were you rowing about?” I guessed I wasn’t going to like whatever it was.

She
thrust Paul’s mobile phone towards me.

It
shook as if on vibrate until I took it from her hand. 

The
message read:

‘Naughty,
naughty, Laura.  I’ve got more photos.’ 

“Holy
crap!” I shrieked, and nearly dropped the mobile.  “There isn’t a photo
attached, is there?”

“No. 
But there might be next time.”  Laura’s sketchy voice was riddled with
panic.  “I have to pay up.” 

“Don’t
be stupid.”  I tried to say calmly.  What I really wanted to do was
let rip and slap sense into her.  “You can’t give in again.”

“I
have to pay.  I can’t put off dealing with it any longer.”  She
pointed towards the lounge.  “Not now whoever’s doing this has started
contacting Paul.”

I
set the phone on the worktop.  “It’s just a warning.  Paul won’t know
what this message really means.  It’s the next one we need to worry
about.”

“Maybe. 
But Paul’s no fool.”  Her hands formed two tight balls.  “I could
kill Lee for what he said last night.  It’s made Paul suspicious. 
Though, I think I managed to convince him it was nothing to worry about. 
A kiss and a cuddle helped take his mind off it, for now.”

I
heaved a sigh.

She
cast her eyes down to her feet and began muttering.  “I need to get that
money together.  Yes.  Get to the bank.” 

I
stopped myself saying I was awaiting news from Lee.  I didn’t want an
argument.  “No.  Mention that fingerprint again.  Ummm… Convince
them you’re not bluffing about it being there and that you’ll give it to the
police.  We just need more time.  But please don’t give in.”

“Done
that.  The fingerprint idea didn’t work.  I’d rather pay now, than
wait for this whole damn thing to blow up in my face at the altar.”

Laura
opened the cutlery drawer and clattered the tray sounding like a toddler with a
rattle.  I picked up loose chippings of a glass tumbler from by my feet
and dropped them in the bin.  She carried on shifting knives and forks,
rattling items in the drawer, even when I tried to hold her hand still. 
“Where the hell is it?” she muttered.

“Do
you have that much cash left in the bank, Laura?”

“Not
quite.  My money’s tied up.  I’ll have to sell some jewellery to
raise it this fast.”  She glanced over her shoulder.  “Unless you’re
in the market for a new house, Chelsea.”

“What
then?  What if they ask for even more?  How far will you go?”  I
spoke more sternly, determined to break through her stubborn barrier. 
“Sell a couple of your houses?  The car you love?  Get rid of
everything your parents worked their butts off for?”

Laura
spun around fast as a record on a deck.  Her eyes seemed to have doubled
in size.  She looked like I had actually slapped her across the face.

“Don’t
you think Paul would notice when you downgrade to a one bed high-rise?”

“I
know.  I know.  I wish it would stop.”  She clenched her fist
around a handful of hair and turned her back on me.  “I’ll get all the
evidence this time.  I’ll not make that mistake again.”

I
set my hand on her arm and spoke over her shoulder.  “I don’t want you to
delude yourself.  It’s so easy to transfer video and photos to a
computer.  If you give this scumbag what he wants, even if there aren’t
any copies, he might tell Paul anyway.  He doesn’t need photos to
tell
him.  Please think this through properly.  This is a really bad way
to enter into marriage.  You’re going to have a life of lies.  Tell
Paul the truth before someone else does it for you.  At least then you can
try to make him understand why it happened.  I want this to end and I want
my best friend back.”

“If
it was anyone other than Paul, then perhaps I would.  But I can’t risk
it.  Cheating will always be a raw subject for him.”

“Lee
still believes we’re dealing with a murderer.”

“It’s
only him who thinks that,” she snapped.

“Don’t
be so sure. 
My
jury’s still debating that one.  Lee seems far
more sane than us right now.  I’m starting to believe him.”

“He’s
grieving, twisting things.  He needs someone to blame.”  She turned
around, glowered at me and pointed a finger over my shoulder.  “What do
you want me to do, Chelsea?  Waltz into the lounge this very second and
tell Paul I’ve lied, cheated, shared another man’s bed and body, and then ask
if he still wants to marry me in the morning?”

“Well,
maybe not quite like that, but yes.  If it’s a toss up between Paul
finding out today, or finding out during your wedding ceremony...  I’d
rather save you
that
humiliation.”

“To
me, Paul’s worth more than an extra twenty grand.  No matter when or how
he finds out, all he’ll see is that I opened my legs like his goddamned mother
did.”  She paused to grunt.  “And what if I do tell Paul today, but
then find a way of silencing this creep, Mark, afterwards?  Huh?”

I
sighed.  “Hold fire then, at least until we hear from Lee.”

Laura’s
eyes burned through me.  She slammed the drawer shut with her
bottom.  “What?  I told you I don’t want Lee involved.”

I
covered my mouth, wishing I could stuff my words back inside.  “He’s
following up that photo.  The wedding’s tomorrow.  That gives us the
rest of today to come up with something.  But if we don’t, I’m sorry but I
think I ought to phone the police myself.”

An
acidic look leapt into her eyes.  “You’ll what?  Don’t do this to
me.  Please don’t call them.”