The Fifth Victim Part 26

"Now, don't go getting your panties in a wad, lover." Jamie tried to wrap his arm around her, but she outmaneuvered him so that he grasped thin air.

"Are you seeing other women?" Laura demanded. "Is that where you're going tonight, to see someone else?"

"Now, why would I be seeing other women when I have you?" Jamie grinned sheepishly at her. "Baby doll, you're more than enough woman for me."

"You're lying! I may not be all that experienced, but I know when a man finds me boring."

Jamie lunged toward her and this time was able to catch her before she sidestepped him. When he pulled her into his arms, she struggled to free herself.

"Calm down and let me show you how easily you can satisfy me." He tried to kiss her, but she turned her head.

He bit her earlobe. She yelped in pain.

He licked her ear, then whispered, "I don't find a.s.s-f.u.c.king boring." He rubbed his hand over her b.u.t.tocks. "Take your panties off and bend over and I promise I won't be going anywhere else tonight."

Laura's eyes widened in shock. "Are you seriously asking me to partic.i.p.ate in such a depraved act?"

"I could force you," he told her. "Would you like it better that way? You could cry and whimper and beg me to stop and act as if you didn't like it."

"No, Jamie. I don't want to-"

He silenced her with a kiss. A tongue-down-her-throat kiss. Laura was a good-looking girl. Not really pretty, but cute. And she had perky t.i.ts and a first-cla.s.s a.s.s. Unfortunately, she wasn't very adventurous in the bedroom. He'd figured out after the first time he'd screwed her that she didn't know much about s.e.x. Later, she'd admitted that he was only her third lover. h.e.l.l, he couldn't even remember who his third lover had been...or his thirtieth. His first had been one of the maids who had worked for his grandmother. He'd been fourteen and enjoyed the twenty-five-year-old's body for quite some time. Until she'd up and quit. The next memorable partner had been Jazzy Talbot. Now there was one hot piece of a.s.s. But for the life of him he didn't recall if she was lover number five, six, or seven. Certainly not number three.

The kiss quieted Laura momentarily, but the minute he released her mouth, she groaned. "I love you, Jamie, but I won't put up with your having other women after we're married." She stuck out her lower lip in an adorable pout.

He grinned, then planted a quick kiss on her pouting mouth. "I promise that once we're married, I'll be as faithful as an old dog." He wasn't lying to her. Not really. What she didn't know was that he had no intention of ever marrying her.

"I wish I could believe you."

When she relaxed in his arms, he knew he had her. She was succ.u.mbing to her love for him. He preferred it when a woman loved him. Women in love were always easier to handle.

"I love you, Laura. You know that. I've never loved another woman the way I love you."

G.o.d, how gullible women were. They fell for that old line every time. He'd lost track of how many times he'd used those exact words. h.e.l.l, all he did was tell Laura what she wanted to hear, what every woman wanted to believe.

Putty in his hands, she melted into him. "Will it hurt?" she asked.

"Will what hurt?"

"You know." She grasped his hands and dragged them down from her waist to cup her b.u.t.tocks.

Jamie laughed. "Oh, that. Lover, it won't hurt me a bit, but...it could be a little uncomfortable for you."

"How uncomfortable?" She looked directly into his eyes, her gaze filled with antic.i.p.ation.

"You're dying to find out, aren't you?" He grabbed her hand and dragged her across the room toward the bed. "Just take off your robe and remove your panties and I'll satisfy your curiosity."

He released his hold on her. She hesitated for a second, then eased her robe from her shoulders and let it pool at her feet. Beneath the robe she was naked. He sucked in his breath. Just looking at her gave him a hard-on.

"I love you, Jamie." She turned her back to him and bent over, bracing herself with her open palms flattened on the foot of the bed. "I wouldn't let you do this if I didn't love you so much."

Jamie ran his hand over her smooth, firm b.u.t.t, then unzipped his pants and freed his s.e.x.

Jacob spent the night in his office. Again. Since Susie Richards's murder, he'd spent as many nights at the Sheriff's Department as he had his own apartment. With each pa.s.sing day, he came to regret having run for sheriff more and more. Logically he knew the only way to become a top-notch lawman was with experience, but right now he sure as h.e.l.l would like to find a quick way to bypa.s.s those years of on-the-job-training and move right on up to seasoned sheriff.

h.e.l.l, man, what more could you do than you've already done? he asked himself as he looked through the stack of crime-scene photos for what seemed like the millionth time. Was there something he was missing? Was Dallas's personal experience clouding his expert vision? Why hadn't the task force helped them solve these crimes?

With frustration and lack of sleep added to his normal quick temper, Jacob swept his hand across the top of his desk, a motion that sent the photos flying into the air and then dropping haphazardly onto the floor. He shot up so quickly that he accidentally flipped his swivel chair onto its side. He kicked the back of the overturned chair and cursed a blue streak.

The killer wanted Genny. He had chosen her as his fifth victim because she had psychic abilities, because she had inherited the sight from Granny.

He had to protect Genny at all costs. She was the dearest person on earth to him. He loved her like a sister.

And Dallas Sloan loved her, too. Instinct alone told Jacob that Dallas would lay down his life for Genny.

Tewanda Hardy called out through the closed office door. "Sheriff Butler, Dr. MacNair is here to see you."

Jacob checked his watch. Ten-fifteen. "Yeah, Tewanda, tell him to come on in." Jacob righted his chair and bent to hurriedly pick up the scattered photos.

The door opened and the town's newest doctor crept in. Crept was the only way Jacob knew how to describe the man's demeanor. Head bowed. Eyes downcast. Acting like a whipped dog. MacNair was one of those soft-looking men, stocky in build but not muscular, with a ruddy face, washed-out blue eyes, and small, almost feminine features.

"I've made a terrible mistake," MacNair said.

"How's that?" Jacob had a feeling he already knew what the doctor was going to say. Genny had probably guessed right-Nina MacNair had run off with another man.

"My wife isn't missing."

"Have you heard from her?"

He shook his head. "Not directly. But her mother called me about thirty minutes ago. It seems Nina contacted her because she didn't want her mother to worry about her. Nina knew I'd call Mrs. Grant."

"And your mother-in-law told you that your wife is all right?"

"Nina has left me. Mrs. Grant told me that Nina had her old boyfriend come to Cherokee Pointe and pick her up early this morning. She walked from our house into town. She's going to move in with her mother until after we get a divorce, then she's going to marry.... She didn't take anything with her this morning. She didn't want to risk getting caught. She was afraid I'd beg her to stay."

Jacob didn't need to hear this, didn't want to hear it. He hated seeing a man humbled and humiliated by a woman he loved.

Jacob crossed the room, planted his hand on the doctor's shoulder, and said, "I'll take care of the missing person's report. I can explain that Mrs. MacNair's gone home to visit her mother."

"I'm sorry about all this. I honestly thought..." MacNair gulped down a sob. "Thank G.o.d I was wrong about the killer having her."

Jacob walked the doctor outside to his car, all the while very grateful that he'd never allowed any woman to emotionally castrate him.

Genny lifted a quilt down from a high shelf in the hall closet and carried it into Dallas's bedroom. She'd given him Jacob's old room, which was directly across the hall from hers. When Dallas heard her approaching, he turned to face her.

"Here's an extra quilt." She held out the last patchwork creation Granny had put together before her death. "Is there anything else you need?"

Her heartbeat accelerated when she noticed the way he was looking at her. As if she was everything he wanted, all that he would ever need.

Dallas took the quilt and tossed it onto the foot of the bed. "You need a security system."

"All right. Should I call someone tomorrow?"

"I'll do it."

"Thank you."

"No need to thank me. I'm here to take care of you, and getting a security system installed is part of keeping you safe."

"Your being here makes me feel safe."

Dallas studied her, his gaze moving rapidly from her face to her feet and then coming back up again in slow motion. "When we first met, I was surprised by how strongly you affected me. I told myself you'd cast a spell on me."

"Now what do you think?" she asked.

"Now I know you've cast a spell over me."

"You're aware that it works both ways. We're caught up in the same magic spell."

Dallas lifted his hand. Genny came to him as if drawn by an unseen force. He skimmed the back of his hand down her cheek. She closed her eyes, experiencing his touch to the fullest.

"You must know how much I want you." He let his hand drop to his side.

"Yes, I know. You want me as much as I want you."

"More," he said, his voice low and rich with longing.

She had waited her entire life for this man and this night. She sensed danger all around her, drawing closer and closer with each pa.s.sing day. Soon-very soon-she would come face-to-face with death. And the only thing that could save her was this man's love.

Chapter 21.

Genny had wondered what it would be like to fall in love. Now she knew. The sensations were exhilarating. The thoughts swirling through her mind enticed her. She wanted to know Dallas in every sense of the word. Mentally, emotionally, physically. Tonight they would form those bonds, connecting on levels that would bind them together for a lifetime. The spiritual bonding would come later, when Dallas accepted her for who and what she was-accepted her completely and without reservations. Once they were spiritually linked, it would be for all eternity.

Dallas reached for her, his hand sliding over her waist as he draped his arm around her. "Are you sure?" he asked. "I don't want you to regret it later."

"I'll have no regrets," she told him.

"I...uh...I should get a...I have protection in my shave kit."

Standing on tiptoe, she kissed his cheek. "Take a shower and shave, while I soak in my tub. When you're ready, I'll be waiting for you in my room."

"It'll be the quickest shower and shave on record."

She smiled. "Don't rush. We have all night."

Sucking in a deep breath, he released her. As she walked away, she could feel his gaze on her, all the way to the door.

Once in her bedroom, she built a fire in the fireplace, then opened a bottom dresser drawer and removed a dozen fat, homemade, white candles and their clear gla.s.s holders. She placed the candles throughout the room and lit each one before turning off the lights.

Her bed was an antique, like most of the furniture in the house, a large mahogany sleigh bed that had belonged to her mother and to Granny before she married. Genny turned back the quilt of colorful hand-embroidered birds and flowers on what had once been a solid white background, now aged to a pale ecru. Beneath lay a white down comforter and white sheets of thick woven cotton. The cases on the four fat feather pillows were edged with delicate aged lace, hand-crocheted by Great-Grandmother Butler. Almost everything in Genny's room had a connection to the past, to ancestresses who had lived and loved and died in these Tennessee hills.

Genny had long ago accepted the fact that she was not a modern woman, not an aggressive go-getter like Jazzy. Genny's world was confined by her unique personality and by her rare psychic gifts. She would never leave this house, this land, these hills of home. The familiar kept her centered, helped her balance reality with the supernatural. Perhaps Dallas would be unable to accept a simple life here in Cherokee County. If that turned out to be the case, then she would have no choice but to let him go. She could not leave with him, but she would not force him to stay.

She was willing to accept whatever the future held. In her mind's eye she envisioned a future with Dallas, free from fear and filled with love. But she knew, better than anyone, that all predictions were subject to change. Life altered moment to moment, depending upon billions of actions and reactions. Each person's life touched others, affecting the outcome of Genny's glimpses into the future.

Some things, however, did seem to be set in stone. Some things could not be changed without miracles occurring. Genny believed in miracles, especially the profound yet subtle miracles that happened in people's lives every day. An infant's birth. Falling in love. A child's beautiful laughter. Inner peace. Sweet dreams coming true.

Tonight was her miracle.

She knelt before the cedar chest at the foot of her bed. Her great-grandfather had made this chest and given it to his only daughter, Melva Mae, to use as a hope chest. During the years in which she grew to womanhood, Granny had filled this chest with the items she would need when she became a bride. After Genny lifted the lid, she reached out and ran her hand over the cotton gown that lay on top of the neatly packed goods beneath. The white gown was semisheer, simple in design and adorned with tiny pearl b.u.t.tons. Fragile lace graced the bodice and the hem. It was a virginal garment, created for a night of initiation. Genny lifted the gossamer-light nightgown and placed it over her arm, then hurried into the bathroom.

After shaving, Dallas stripped out of his clothes, left them lying in a pile on the bathroom floor, and stepped beneath the lukewarm water jetting from the shower. While he lathered his body, he tried not to think about how it would feel to have Genny's small hands touching him. But he could not control the images in his mind. What would it feel like for her to caress him, arouse him? Just the thought created an instant erection. His s.e.x jutted forward. He washed himself, and the touch of his own fingertips almost sent him over the edge. Genny's presence was everywhere, all around him. Her scent lingered in every room of this house. Flowery. Subtle. Barely discernable.

Having s.e.x wasn't a new experience for him. He'd been s.e.xually active since he was sixteen and had lost his virginity to one of his sister Alexandria's college roommates. Jillian had given him a night he'd never forgotten.

Wonder whatever happened to Jillian?

During his late teens and early twenties, he'd "gone steady" several times. In his midtwenties he'd even lived with a woman-Shannon-for nearly a year. He usually gave as good as he got, but he'd always been honest about not wanting a commitment. He knew there were happy marriages; his parents had spent twenty great years together. But he was also well aware of marriages made in h.e.l.l. His father's second marriage reeked of fire and brimstone.

Of course, the bottom line was simple. He'd never loved any woman enough to want to spend the rest of his life with her.

So how do you feel about Genny?

Dallas turned off the shower, stepped out onto the tile floor and grabbed a thick, fluffy towel from the nearby rack. While he dried himself, he mulled over the question. How did he feel about Genny? He wanted her. And yeah, if he was completely honest with himself, he had to admit that he was in love with her. The initial feelings had hit him the moment he first saw her and had been expanding like a summer wildfire ever since.

As corny as it sounded, he'd never felt this way about another woman.

After drying off, Dallas picked up his bundle of dirty clothes and carried them with him into the bedroom. He stuffed them into a black plastic bag, then looked through the items in his suitcase, searching for something to wear. He didn't even own a pair of pajamas. He'd slept in his skivvies since he'd been a kid. After searching through his limited wardrobe, Dallas decided on a pair of well-worn jeans. Since the house was comfortably warm, he left off his s.h.i.+rt. After all, he'd be stripping out of his clothes soon anyway.

Standing alone in his bedroom, barefoot and bare-chested, he considered what he was about to do. He was going to make love to Genny. All night long. Once wouldn't be enough. h.e.l.l, two or three times wouldn't be enough.

Usually he didn't put this much thought into a night of s.e.x, but, then, he'd never made love to someone like Genny. He had no idea how experienced she was. She was a s.e.xy, sensual woman. There had to have been other men.

h.e.l.l! For some absurd, purely irrational, macho reason, Dallas didn't want to think about those other men.

Tonight wouldn't be an isolated incident. He had moved into Genny's house and would be living here until the killer was caught. Whatever they started tonight would continue for as long as he was here in Cherokee County. Would a brief affair be enough for Genny? Would it be enough for him?

Just what are you thinking? he asked himself. The kind of love he felt for Genny was new to him. He wasn't sure how to deal with it. Was marriage out of the question? Would she leave her mountain, her way of life, to go to the big city with him? Or on the flip side, would he be willing to leave the Bureau and settle for a bucolic life in the hills?

h.e.l.l, why was he letting himself get all worked up over the future? All that mattered was tonight. The here and now. Tomorrow would take care of itself. It always did. Live for the moment. That was his philosophy.

Pus.h.i.+ng aside all his concerns, Dallas walked down the hall to Genny's room. The door stood ajar, giving him a full view of the candlelit interior. His stomach knotted. He'd never seen anything so d.a.m.n romantic in his entire life. A fire flickered in the stone fireplace. The covers had been turned down on the bed. Pale, wavering shadows danced across the wooden floor.