Cavanaugh Justice: Alone In The Dark Part 13

It took him a second to rea.s.sure himself that he hadn't swallowed his own tongue.

The rest was a haze of feelings, of desires and near fulfillments. He took off her bra and panties, teasing them both, but left her stockings in place. She was incredibly erotic, wearing only the soft sc.r.a.ps of nylon. His own clothes were shed in a flurry as the need to feel her flesh against his grew more urgent.

He explored her, even as she explored him, and they both drove one another almost crazy as they touched, caressed and pressed moist, openmouthed kisses along trembling skin. He went closer and closer to the edge, only to retreat at the very last moment.

Each time he'd pull himself back from the brink, he did so because he wanted to savor this feeling a little longer. Wanting to pleasure her a little more. It was the only way he could thank her for the respite she was giving him, for dragging him out of the solitary world that he had inhabited for so long.

Patience twisted and turned beneath his touch, beneath the hot trail that his mouth was forging. Biting back moans.

d.a.m.n, but she had never thought it could be like this. Like fire and ice and shooting stars racing along the sky. Pleasure erupted in her veins over and over again, seemingly joined together in an endless loop that continued to corkscrew all through her. She wanted him with such an intensity she was afraid she was going to explode.

Each time Brady touched her, each time he kissed her, her head spun a little more, her blood heated a little higher.

She wanted to absorb him, to make love with him like this forever. It had never, ever, occurred to her that it could be this wonderful. Her solitary college experience had been so fraught with such disappointment, she'd come away from it feeling that s.e.x, that lovemaking itself, was highly overrated.

And maybe it was. If it happened with anyone but the right person.

The thought burst across her brain.

Oh no, no, Brady Coltrane wasn't the right person. He couldn't be. She'd promised herself that it would never be a man who lived by the badge.

This had to be sorted out.

Later.

For now, Brady remained the most dynamic man she had ever met. And so very skilled at what he did. Because he played her as if she were a fine, rare instrument, making her body hum. Making every single inch of her vibrate. With longing. With antic.i.p.ation.

She wrapped her legs around him, moving the core of her against him. She didn't know how much longer she could last like this.

They were on the floor and then, suddenly, he was over her. She could feel him wanting her. Her heart was pounding so hard, she could scarcely breath.

Now, her eyes implored him. Make love with me now!

And then, just as she was certain she was going to expire, she felt him enter her. Felt the sweet, overpowering sensation as he sheathed himself within her. She raised her hips up urgently, meeting him halfway. Beginning the movement that would ultimately bring them down from the summit they were climbing.

His eyes were on hers, as if he were trying to memorize her every feature, her every breath. Mesmerized, she didn't even blink.

Brady moved harder and harder, needing release and yet, at the same time, not wanting this time to end. He wanted her with such force that it all but completely undid him.

When the climax came, seizing both of them in its grip, he tightened his arms around her, as if he meant to pull her into him, to make her a permanent part of himself.

He tried to absorb her into his very skin, feeling things that he couldn't put into words even if he'd wanted to try.

As the sensation slowly began to ebb away, he continued to hold her to him, vainly trying to prolong the moment.

But eventually it flowed on the wings of night.

She had trouble regulating her breathing. Everything still raced inside her, breaking every speed record. Finally she turned toward him and saw an odd look on his face.

So many things were going on inside, he couldn't begin to catalog them, couldn't begin to even pick his way through them. "Doc-"

So, it was Doc again, not Patience, she thought. She tried to brace herself and knew she wasn't going to do a very good job of it.

There was a smile on her lips, but this time it didn't reach her eyes.

"Coltrane," she warned him, "if you apologize for this, I swear I'm going to make a necklace out of your teeth."

The absurd image made him smile, even when there was nothing to smile about. Because he'd weakened and allowed himself to react to her physically instead of backing away the way he should have.

Unable to help himself, he brushed back a strand of her hair. It was damp with perspiration, like the rest of her. He felt desire stir within him again and he clamped down on it.

"This wasn't supposed to happen." He looked away because looking at Patience only made him want her. Badly.

No, she thought, it wasn't. He was a cop and she wasn't supposed to care about a cop, not in that way. But things didn't always go according to plan. If they had, her father would have been a great deal more loving. And he would have still been alive. So would her mother.

"But it did," she pointed out quietly. She touched his face, forcing him to look at her. "Don't spoil it by overthinking it, Coltrane. Some things you just have to enjoy. And leave it at that."

As if he could just leave it at that, he silently mocked himself. Before he could say anything to refute what she'd just said, Patience raised her head up and lightly brushed her lips against his. And succeeded in brushing away any n.o.ble resolve on his part, as well.

Brady gathered her against him and kissed her. Hard. And the dance began all over again, despite all their resolutions and rules to the contrary.

Patience sighed as she stared at the computer screen. She'd typed the same sentence three times in a row now. It was as if the software was hiccuping. Shaking her head, she pressed the backs.p.a.ce key and deleted the repet.i.tious lines. Finished, she sat back and scrubbed her hands over her face, wishing she could somehow scrub them over her brain, as well.

The past couple of days she'd felt as if she'd been sleepwalking. Sleepwalking and holding her breath. Waiting not for any evidence of the stalker, but some kind of sign that Brady was still in her life.

He'd left that evening soon after they'd made love again. Left quickly with hardly any conversation in his wake. Rather than like lovers, they'd parted like two strangers who'd woken up in the wrong bed. Next to the wrong person.

Was she the wrong person to him?

Was he?

If she looked at the situation logically, she'd made a huge mistake. Except that tiny little voice inside of her kept arguing that she hadn't. But that tiny voice was definitely in the minority. Especially since Brady hadn't called since he'd walked out her door.

Face it, she told herself. It was just one of those things that happen. It's over, finished before it really started.

But, whether she liked it or not, her one night of lovemaking was going to become a yardstick by which she would measure every other man. Because, whatever else he might be, Brady Coltrane was a fantastic lover. Kind, gentle and stirring beyond belief. And no matter what else happened in her life, she was always going to remember the night they'd had together.

Disgusted with the fact that she couldn't seem to focus her thoughts for more than thirty seconds at a time, she began to power down her computer.

As her fingers. .h.i.t the appropriate keys, a question flashed across the screen.

"No, I don't want to save Doc.u.ment 1," Patience told the screen. "It's all hodgepodge anyway." Served her right for trying to update files when her mind had taken a powder.

"Um, Dr. Cavanaugh?"

Patience looked up to see Shirley sticking her head into her office. Was lunch over already? Automatically she glanced at her watch. Five after two. Time to get back to work, she thought, rising from her desk.

She crumbled the foil around her uneaten, almost untouched tuna fish sandwich, sending both unceremoniously into the wastepaper basket. By her reckoning, she had to have lost two pounds in the last two days. Her appet.i.te had completely disappeared. Maybe she was onto something, she mocked herself. She could call it the lovesick diet.

Except that she wasn't lovesick, she insisted silently. Just a little love-under-the-weather.

She pasted a smile on her face as she turned toward her receptionist. "I'm coming, Shirley." She began to circ.u.mvent the desk. "Who's up first?"

Shirley glanced over her shoulder, as if her memory wasn't sufficient to retain that kind of information for more than a few moments at a time. "That man who came with that bird."

Instantly, Patience tensed. The hairs on the back of her neck began to stand up like some elementary science experiment involving a gla.s.s rod and a swatch of fur. She'd distinctly told Shirley to turn him away if he called for an appointment. Had he just shown up again?

"Walter Payne?"

Shirley's head bobbed up and down. The woman's eyes watched her anxiously. "Um, I think so."

She couldn't deal with this, not right now. Not when she felt so terribly scattered. "Tell him I'm too busy. Give him Dr. Johnson's number."

"But he's already here," Shirley told her. "In the office-"

Patience squared her shoulders. "Don't argue with me, Shirley. I said-"

She stopped abruptly as a shadow fell across Shirley. Walter stood on the threshold, a square white box in his hands. Without thinking, Patience opened the middle drawer of her desk. Her hand covered the scissors she kept there.

"I won't take any of your time," Walter promised her. "I just came by to give you this present. It's to say thank-you. Mitzi's doing fine."

"Paying your bill says thank-you, Walter," she replied crisply. Her heart hammered hard as she closed her fingers around the scissors.

"I wanted to settle that up, too. I won't be here to get your bill, Dr. Cavanaugh. Mitzi and I are moving away."

Was he telling her this to throw her off? Or was he finally giving up? Her emotions were in such a state of turmoil, she didn't know what to think. And she was afraid to hope.

"When?"

"At the end of this week." Taking a couple of steps forward, Walter slipped the box onto her desk. "We're going down to San Diego. Weather's better for Mitzi and I've got family there. My brother just got laid off and he thought it might be a good time to start something new. He's going to be joining me in my company." Walter's expression took on a forlorn look. "So you see, this is kind of like a goodbye present."

"I still can't accept it. That would be unprofessional," she added in the hope that the words would finally convince him. But Walter made no move to take back his gift. Or to leave. "All right, then, goodbye." Why wasn't he going?

He looked at her hopefully, ignoring the fact that Shirley still stood there, seeming befuddled. "Of course, with the Internet and all, we could still stay in touch if you'd like-"

Patience cut him off. "I don't think that's a good idea, Walter."

"But if Mitzi gets sick again-"

"There are a great many good vets down in San Diego."

"Right." Walter sighed, crestfallen. "Well, then, I guess I'd better get going." Picking up the gift, he paused by the doorway. "Thanks again for all your help. Mitzi will never forget you."

"And I certainly won't forget Mitzi," she murmured under her breath.

"One more thing-" he began.

"Walter, I think you really need to go now." She squared her shoulders, moving out of her office. Forcing him to step back.

"Everything all right here?"

Startled, Patience turned to find Josh standing with Gonzo in the small hallway.

Finding himself so close to the dog, Walter's eyes nearly bulged. He cringed, pressing himself against the wall in an effort to vacate the confining area without making contact with the animal. He never took his eyes off Gonzo until he'd cleared the hall.

"It is now," Patience told Josh. She tried to keep the relief out of her voice, but doubted if she succeeded.

Chapter 12.

Josh glanced over his shoulder at Walter's disappearing figure. Shirley muttered something about answering the phone and slipped away.

"Did I just miss something?" Josh's eyes narrowed as he looked back at her.

"No." She didn't feel like going into a long story. Instead, Patience looked at the large German shepherd standing behind Josh in the limited s.p.a.ce. "What can I do for you?"

He didn't answer immediately. Instead Josh watched her for a long moment, then smiled. "Well, since you asked..."

Because the game was familiar and because he'd shown up at precisely the right time, she flashed him an amused smile. "I was referring to Gonzo."

"Can't blame a guy for trying." Josh shrugged, as if resigned to making the best of it. "Well, as it turns out, I forgot to ask you for Gonzo's heart-worm medication. He ran out."

Walking to where the files were all kept in the pa.s.sageway, Patience paused a moment to look for Gonzo's. Finding it, she pulled it out, then turned to the last entry as she entered the closest exam room.

"That's odd." She flipped through several pages before looking up at Josh. "According to this, he should have enough to last him through the beginning of next month."

Josh's expression bordered on the sheepish. "That's provided he didn't let one of the pills go rolling down the sink."

She closed the file and looked, at Josh, puzzled. "You're going to have to elaborate on that."

Josh leaned a hip against the examination table. "I tossed it to him because that's the way he likes to take pills." She gave him an incredulous look. "Trying to shove them down his throat doesn't work," he explained. "Anyway, I tossed, he jumped, the d.a.m.n thing bounced off his nose and landed in the sink, where it went down the drain, making us one pill short."

Patience shook her head and laughed. "So, you think you're Michael Jordan, do you?" She petted Gonzo's head, then turned toward the cabinet where she kept certain standard medications. The one she was looking for came prepackaged in a six-month supply. Finding it, she handed the small box to Josh. "Here, this should hold him for the next six months. And you might just try giving it to him instead of having him field it."

Josh pocketed the box. "He doesn't like swallowing pills the regular way."