Passion In The First Degree Part 13

Shelby had never known the power of a gaze, but as Billy's lingered on her, she felt her body responding. Muscles weakened, nerves tingled and heat coiled within her.

"Shelby, you are so beautiful." He leaned over and touched her lips with his. This kiss was different than any she'd shared with him before. Soft and tender, his lips made love to hers, and when he finished with her mouth, he moved to her ear, then down her jawline, evoking fire where he touched.

As his mouth caressed her, his fingers worked the b.u.t.tons on her blouse, stopping only when the last one had been unfastened. At that moment Shelby realized there would be no violent eruption of pa.s.sion this time. He intended to take the time to seduce her slowly...completely. This thought sent a shiver of antic.i.p.ation rippling through her.

It seemed it took him forever to remove her clothing. Each inch of skin that was bared immediately was covered by his mouth and hands. By the time he removed his jeans and joined her on the bed, Shelby was at a fever pitch. Never had she felt so alive. Never had she wanted a man more. But when he moved to position himself above her, she shook her head and pushed him aside. "Not yet," she said, wanting to kiss him, caress him, drive him insane as he had just done to her.

Shelby pushed him down on his back, then explored his body in awe. Sleek muscle beneath warm skin, a broad chest covered with soft hair, his strength and masculinity sent her own desire winging higher as she touched, caressed and kissed him.

With a low, deep groan, he rolled her over on her back, hovering above her for a single second before sinking slowly into her. Shelby wrapped her legs around him, wanting to keep him locked inside her forever. Tears filled her eyes as she felt his heart beating the same frantic rhythm as her own. As he moved against her, her breaths quickened, matching his as he took her spiraling out of control.

Afterward they sprawled side by side on the bed, the ceiling fan cooling their heated bodies as their breathing slowly returned to normal.

"If you say I told you so, I'll slap you," Shelby said, turning on her side to gaze at him.

His lips curled up in a s.e.xy smile that sent a shiver of delight dancing through her. "I won't say I told you so because I wasn't sure this would happen again."

She propped herself up on her elbow and stared at him in surprise. "You certainly acted sure. In fact, you were quite arrogant on the subject."

His grin widened. "Ah, there you go again, Shelby, turning my head with all your sweet talk."

"That's one thing different this time from the last time," she said thoughtfully.

His smile fell away. "What?"

"This time I won't make the mistake of confusing s.e.x and love." For just a moment Shelby felt a swift arrow through her heart as she remembered the innocent she had been when she and Billy had first made love.

Billy reached out and caressed her face then cupped her chin with his hand. "I didn't handle things very well that night." He remembered at the time he had needed to distance himself from her, make her understand he could never be anything in her life.

She was a Longsford and he was swamp sc.u.m. And if he had any notion that any relationship could grow between them all he had to do was remember Tyler, cold in his grave. Swamp and town didn't mix, at least not in Black Bayou. He moved his hand away from her face, realizing that touching her rekindled a flame inside him.

"We were children, Billy, both of us grieving for a woman we loved." She placed a hand on his chest, her fingers twirling strands of hair. "I was angry with you for a long time after that night. I felt as if you'd taken something from me, but now I realize my bad feelings had nothing to do with what happened between us." She sighed, her expression troubled. "Every time I thought about that night, I'd get a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach and I blamed that on you. Now I know it wasn't you at all, it was repressed memories of what I saw in the swamp." She shivered, her eyes taking on a haunted glaze.

Unable to help himself, Billy pulled her into his arms, wishing he could erase that night of horror from her mind, take her back to the innocence she'd once possessed. As she nestled against him, her cheek against his chest, he felt an odd surge of guilt. "I used you to ease my grief the night Mama Royce died."

She raised her head and smiled at him. "And I used you to hide in, to escape from what I'd seen earlier. We're even, Billy." She pressed her lips against his neck and his response was immediate. He wanted her again.

This time there was little foreplay. She was as ready as he and arched against him with an abandoned splendor that stole his breath from him. It was madness, sheer madness to want her so, and the fact that she was a willing partic.i.p.ant in the madness only increased his hunger.

Later, sated momentarily once again, he held her against him as she slept. Her body curved against his in complete trust and he felt a flare of protectiveness that tightened his arms around her.

Since the time he'd met her so many years before, Shelby Longsford had held his fascination like no other person. She'd been the fairy princess living in the castle, and as a youth he'd never been able to understand what drove her out of the castle and into the swamp.

It was only as he had grown older that he'd realized he'd been far more wealthy than her in areas unrelated to power and money. Mama Royce had been Billy's wealth, one he'd shared with the little princess. Secretly it had filled Billy with pride, that despite her family's wealth, her beautiful home and expensive toys, he'd had something she didn't, he had something she needed.

He was glad he'd shared Mama Royce with her, knew the connection with his grandmother had helped mold and shape the woman Shelby had become. He hoped some of Mama Royce's inner strength had been pa.s.sed on to Shelby. He had a feeling before this was all over, she was going to need every ounce of inner strength she could find.

SHELBY AWOKE SUDDENLY, unsure what had pulled her from sleep. A whisper of light seeped in through the window, letting her know dawn was just starting to break. Billy slept next to her, his body warmly surrounding her. For a moment she didn't move, merely savoring the feel of him so close to her.

She shifted her position, turning so she could see him as he slept. Even in sleep there seemed to be a tensed wariness about him. No hint of vulnerability softened his features. Such a solitary man. A man who kept his feelings secret, shared his soul with n.o.body. If she hadn't seen him with Mama Royce years ago, and more recently with Parker, she would have easily believed Jonathon LaJune's a.s.sessment that Billy didn't know how to love.

Frowning, she eased away from him. She had to get home. Besides, it was sheer foolishness to be fantasizing about love and Billy. She'd made that mistake once. She would never make it again. What she and Billy shared was a curious physical attraction, a strong chemical pull that was based on l.u.s.t. She'd finish this case, then go on with her life, and she'd have two memories of making love to Billy, pleasant memories to warm a cold wintry night. She grabbed her clothes from the floor and dressed, her back turned toward the bed.

"You aren't thinking of sneaking out of here, are you?"

She whirled around and finished b.u.t.toning her blouse. "I've got to get home."

He sat up and ran a hand through his hair, his smile as s.e.xy in the purple of dawn as it had been in the shadows of the night. "Why not stay and I'll make us some breakfast...after."

Despite the intimacies they had already shared, a blush warmed Shelby's face. "I really should get home before everyone is awake at the house."

The smile died quickly. He stood and reached for his jeans. "I'll walk you back."

"That's not necessary," she protested.

"Don't be a fool. There's a murderer loose in the swamp and it's not even light yet." He pulled up his jeans and zipped them. "I'll walk you back," he repeated in a tone that brooked no argument.

They walked through the swamp toward the mansion in silence. Shelby didn't know what had caused the sudden tension that rolled off him, and so didn't know how to ease it. They didn't speak until they reached the manicured gra.s.s of the Longsford lawn.

Shelby turned to him, unsure what to say, hating that he always managed to keep her off-balance. "Thanks for walking me back," she finally said.

He bowed. "The lovely princess is successfully led through the evil forest by the troll. All is well in the kingdom." His mocking smile fell away and he leaned forward and cupped Shelby's face in his hands. "Shelby, you remembered the look on Layne Rocharee's face when he died. That means you were close enough to see the face of the monster who murdered him." He tapped the side of her head with his index finger. "The answers to everything are in there. You have the key to my exoneration buried in your memories. That makes you vitally important to me, and a genuine threat to the murderer." He kissed her forehead, then turned and, making no sound, disappeared into the swamp.

She lingered for a moment at the edge of the copse, his parting words upsetting her. Was the answer to all the murders trapped in her mind? And how much of Billy's desire was a result of that fact? She was his hope for acquittal and that meant she was a danger to somebody else.

With a troubled sigh she walked to the house and up on the porch. She jumped as she realized somebody was sitting in the rocking chair. "Mama? What are you doing out here?"

Clad in a nightgown, without her customary makeup, Celia looked older than her years. "I couldn't sleep. I often have bouts of insomnia." She gazed at Shelby, her blue eyes clear and sharp. "I saw you coming out of the swamp with that man. I hope you aren't getting in too deep with him, doing things to shame our family. The busybodies in this town would never stop talking if they could see you now."

Shelby sighed wearily. "Mama, I'm a big girl. I know what I'm doing and I don't care about the busybodies."

"Are you so sure Billy Royce is innocent in Tyler's and Fayrene's murders?" Celia's chair creaked as she rocked forward. "There's been stories about his father and mother and their deaths. They say blood will tell."

"Billy isn't guilty. He's simply not capable of that kind of crime."

Celia smiled and shook her head. "Shelby, no matter how well you think you know a man, you can never be sure you know his heart's darkness, his secret pa.s.sions." She smiled again. "Men are a strange breed, darling girl." With another creak of the rocker, Celia stood. "I think I can sleep now." She started for the door, then paused and turned back to Shelby. "Make sure you shower before breakfast to get the smell of the swamp off you. You know how your father is, and I don't want to start the day off with him in one of his moods."

Shelby nodded, and her mother left the porch and disappeared into the house. Yes, she knew how her father was, and that's what frightened her. If what she suspected was true, she had seen the swamp serpent and had been so traumatized she'd repressed the memory. Seeing a murder was frightening, but seeing a murder being committed by somebody she knew would be horrifying enough to drive the memory away. She knew that's what had happened. She had seen the face of the monster, and it had been familiar... so familiar she had repressed it, unable to withstand the damage to her psyche. Somehow she had to retrieve that memory and hope that while she had been looking at the murderer, the murderer hadn't been looking at her.

Chapter Fourteen.

"Bob! Wait up." Shelby ran down the sidewalk toward the sheriff, who stopped in his tracks and turned to face her. "I was just going to the station to find you," she said, pausing a moment to catch her breath.

"I was on my way to Martha's. Why don't you let me buy you some lunch?"

Shelby hesitated, aware that Bob's lunch offer was prompted by feelings less than professional. "We'll go dutch," she said, aware he got the message by the look of disappointment that crossed his face.

"How's the shoulder?" Bob asked as they walked toward the popular eating establishment.

"Healing nicely, although still a little stiff." She murmured her thanks as he opened the door to the restaurant and ushered her inside.

As usual at the noon hour, Martha's was packed with people on their lunch breaks. Three-piece suiters ate next to blue-collar workers, their chatter and clinking dinnerware creating a din. Martha waved to them as she rang up a customer at the cash register. Bob led Shelby to a just-emptied table in the center of the room. "So, why were you on your way to the station to find me?" he asked as they settled in their chairs across from one another.

"I was wondering if there were autopsy and other reports from all of the swamp serpent murders and if I could get copies of everything you have on them."

He looked at her in surprise. "Why would you want to have them? Surely they can't have a bearing on Billy's case."

Shelby shrugged, unwilling to say too much. "Until Billy is proclaimed innocent, everything has a bearing on his case."

They paused in their conversation when the waitress came to their table. Shelby ordered a salad and Bob got the daily special of Cajun chicken. When the waitress had departed, Bob looked at Shelby thoughtfully. "You've found something that ties Fayrene and Tyler to the swamp serpent, haven't you?"

He leaned back in his chair and raked a hand through his hair. "Shelby, I'm turning myself inside out to stop those murders in the swamp, but I'm grasping at phantoms. I've got nothing substantial to hold on to. If you know anything you think might help, for everyone's sake please tell me."

Shelby weighed the pros and cons in her head, aware that in not telling Bob what she suspected, she could be guilty of obstructing justice. "Did you know Tyler was working on the swamp murders?" she asked.

"What do you mean, working on them? Writing about them?"

Shelby nodded. "He's got file after file on the murders on his laptop computer and I think it might be those files that got him killed." She consciously made the decision not to tell him about her fragmented memory, knowing at this point she remembered nothing that could be of any real help. "Billy and I believe the swamp serpent killed Tyler and Fayrene. The best way to absolve Billy is to find the swamp serpent."

Bob rubbed his chin thoughtfully, his gaze worried as it lingered on her. "Shelby, you're in over your head. How in the h.e.l.l do you expect to find a murderer who has eluded the law for over a decade?"

"I don't know. But at least I can work up a viable defense for Billy based on reasonable doubt. The jury needs to know Tyler was working on that murder case, and the night he met Fayrene he told somebody he thought she might have information as to the ident.i.ty of the swamp serpent. It's a little too coincidental that they were both killed that night."

Bob leaned forward. "Where are you getting all this information? I don't know half of what you seem to know and I've got three deputies working the case."

"I'll make you a deal, Bob. I'll give you all my notes, everything I have including copies of Tyler's files, if you do the same. I want crime scene and autopsy reports. I'd like the names of all the officers who worked on the swamp serpent murder cases. I want everything you've got from the first murder to the last."

Again their conversation ceased as the waitress appeared with their orders. "I'll have everything ready for you first thing in the morning," Bob said when the waitress had once again departed. "Now, let's talk about something more pleasant. Are you going to the Whalens' party Sat.u.r.day night?"

"I got an invitation, but I don't think I'm going to go. With Billy's trial less than two weeks away, I really can't afford to take off for an entire evening."

"You know what they say about all work and no play." Bob reached across the table and covered her hand with his. "Seriously, Shelby, it isn't good to work all the time."

"Well, well. If it isn't my counsel and Black Bayou's finest."

A coil of heat unfurled in Shelby's stomach at the familiar deep voice. She looked up to see Billy with Parker at his side. Billy's gaze moved from her face to where her hand was covered with Bob's.

Shelby fought the impulse to s.n.a.t.c.h her hand away, hating the fact that Billy could make her feel guilty about anything. Still, she was relieved when Bob reared back in his chair, breaking their physical contact. "Billy...Parker," Bob greeted them. He smiled at Parker. "I'll bet you're here for some of Martha's famous chocolate pie."

"No, sir." Parker looked up at his dad as if for rea.s.surance. "I just want a hamburger."

"And that's exactly what I'm going to get you," Billy said to his son. He started to move away, then hesitated and smiled at Shelby, a secret, knowing smile. "You look tired, Shelby. Didn't you get enough sleep last night?"

Shelby felt her face flame as visions of their lovemaking danced in her head. The man was wicked, definitely wicked. "Actually, I didn't get much sleep. I had horrible nightmares all night long."

Billy laughed, a low, deep rumble that only increased the heat inside Shelby. "I'd better feed this hungry boy," he replied. Saying goodbye to them both, Billy and Parker disappeared into the back room of the restaurant.

"n.o.body can fault Billy's parenting skills," Bob observed. "Even his harshest critics can't help but admit he's a good father."

Shelby nodded and focused on her salad in an attempt to exorcise from her mind the memory of Billy's kiss, the searing of his touch, the fire of his possession.

"So, that's how it is." Bob's voice was quiet, thoughtful.

"What?" Shelby looked up from her plate.

"Billy's more than a client to you, isn't he?"

Shelby twirled the straw in her iced tea. "Well, sure, he's an old friend."

"That's not what I mean and you know it." Bob laughed and shook his head ruefully. "I don't know why I didn't realize it before. The few times I've seen you and Billy together the air positively crackles between the two of you."

"Don't be ridiculous," Shelby replied, unable to meet his gaze with hers. "Billy is a friend and a client, nothing more, nothing less."

"Are you trying to convince me or yourself?"

Shelby didn't reply, didn't even want to contemplate what he was saying. Instead she picked at her salad, eating but not tasting, trying to forget what Bob had just said.

"So, you really think Tyler's and Fayrene's murders are connected to the swamp serpent?" Bob asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had grown between them.

She smiled, grateful for the change in subject matter. "Why not? It makes so much more sense than Billy being responsible."

"You know, Shelby, my arresting Billy was nothing personal. He was the most likely suspect and Abe was eager to tie up the case." He popped a French fry into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. "The people in the swamp look up to him, listen when he speaks. With the right kind of focus, Billy could really make a difference in this town."

"It's a shame anyone has to make a difference in this town," Shelby returned.

"Shelby, we're making progress. Ten years ago your family would have no contact at all with the people from the swamp. Now your mother reads to the kids and your brother ministers to some of them. I know the community center doesn't seem like much, but it's a start, a place where people from the swamp and from town can talk, mingle, learn to accept each other as equals."

"I know." Shelby sighed in frustration. She thought of Sissy, so alone, unable to share her grief with other members of Tyler's family because of Jonathon LaJune's prejudice. "I just find it sad that so many people have died and so few seem to care."

Bob smiled ruefully. "Unfortunately that's not a problem we suffer just here in Black Bayou." He looked at his watch and frowned. "I've got to get back to the station. Want me to walk you out?"

"No, thanks. I think I'll stick around until this place empties out a little. I've been wanting to visit with Martha."

"When can I expect copies of Tyler's computer files from you?" he asked as he stood.

"I'll bring them by the station first thing tomorrow morning." Shelby grinned at him. "And at the same time I'll pick up whatever reports you can get together for me."

When Bob had left Shelby settled back in her chair and sipped her iced tea, trying not to think of Parker and Billy in the next room. But her thoughts refused to be schooled away from them. What would happen to Billy's son if the worst happened and Billy went to prison? She knew Billy had no relatives. Did Fayrene? Or would Angelique take Parker?

She stood and grabbed her tea, deciding she'd rather join them than sit alone and think about them. They were seated at the small table where she and Billy had sat the couple of times they had met here at Martha's.

All the other tables in the room had people seated at them. It was the first time Shelby had seen the small private room used as overflow from the main dining area. "Mind if I join you?" she asked Billy.