Murphy's Law (12 page)

Suspicions were a ghastly thing, so until he had more to go on, he'd leave it alone. But if it became necessary, if there was any risk of association, he'd have a man-to-man chat with Denny.

He wasn't about to let anyone, or anything, hurt Ashley.

Something May said must have tickled her because she threw back her head on a robust laugh, uncaring of the hazard to her careful hairdo. She'd broken down during the wedding, leaving makeup smudged beneath her eyes.

And still she looked so precious to him that waiting for the reception to end would be slow torture.

He stared at her long enough that she felt it and looked up to snag his gaze with her own. Her mouth curled and she used one finger to beckon him forward.

She'd sent Tim packing, but called him forward.

He felt pretty good about that.

“Don't you look fine,” she teased when he reached her, “all decked out and holding flowers?” Her laugh teased along his nerve endings, inflaming everything he felt for her. “I forgot all about them. I'm sorry.”

“No problem.” He bent to steal a quick kiss off her smiling mouth. “My machismo can take the hit. But is there someplace to put them?”

“I'm supposed to stow them in the fridge while we wait for the right time for May to throw the bouquet.” Her head tilted to one side, again threatening to tumble her hair. “You want to come with me?”

“Lead the way.”

One hand curved around his biceps, Ashley darted around caterers and guests, tables and chairs until they entered the house from the rear. After leading him past an indoor pool, a theater room, and down a hall, she went behind a bar and tucked the flowers into a medium-sized refrigerator.

Quinton noticed several rooms that would afford a little privacy, so once Ashley finished, he couldn't help but detour her into one of them.

She laughed as the door closed behind her. “Now, Quinton, whatever are you planning?”

Other than filtered sunlight coming through drawn drapes, the room was dark.

“This.” Quinton cupped her face in both hands and kissed her. He felt like a starving man, like he needed her more than his next breath.

Her arms went around his neck and she held on tight. He turned his head to the side and sank his tongue past her parted lips, tasting her deeply. He couldn't
not
touch her, and he ran his hand over her back, down to her waist, and onto her very sexy tush.

She arched forward, making him groan.

“God, Ashley,” he whispered, “I'm going crazy wanting you.”

Eyes slumberous and dark, she stared up at him. “Mmmm.” Her fingers played in his hair, her forearms resting on his shoulders. “What brought this on?”

“I missed you.” He started to kiss her again but she dodged him.

“It's the dress, isn't it?”

“The dress is nice.” But it was the woman in the dress who was fast capturing his heart.

She laughed a little too loud. “Yeah, well, don't let your eyeballs fall out. Most of that isn't real.”

His hand contracted on her bottom. Sure felt real to him. “What isn't?”

“The boobs. It's all push-up and padding and stuff.”

Quinton looked down at her cleavage, and felt his stomach drop to his knees. Her raised arms had all but freed one small breast from the dress. He could see her right nipple, pale pink and puckered. His nostrils flared. Without even realizing it, he made a raw sound of hunger.

Ashley followed his gaze and gasped. She started to adjust herself, but he caught her arms at the elbows, restraining her, keeping them around his neck.

Very slowly, he leaned forward and kissed her temple. Featherlight. Barely there.

Next, he kissed her jaw. Then her chin. And the delicate skin of her throat.

Aware of his intent, she moaned and dropped her head back.

Going as slow as he could manage, Quinton kissed the top of her chest, the slope of her small, firm breast.

A slight trembling invaded her narrow frame. Her chest rose and fell with shallow gasps. Torturing himself, Quinton used his tongue to trace just above her nipple.

Her fingers clenched in his hair on a groan.

“Beautiful,” he breathed…and sucked her into the heat of his mouth.

Her reaction was electric and immediate. She cried out and arched into him, holding him to her breast, giving him as much as he wanted.

He locked one arm around her waist and with the other, freed her other breast.

Small, yes, but so perfect, so sweet…He felt ready to burst his pants. He had to stop now, or he wouldn't be able to stop at all.

“Ashley, honey…”

She squeezed him tight. “I can't wait to have sex with you.”

God, did she always have to say things that turned him inside out? He half laughed, half groaned. “I'm trying to be noble, but you aren't making it easy.”

“Yeah, I know. Me, too. This isn't exactly the best place to be swept away, is it?”

“With you, I can't seem to distinguish until it's almost too late.”

“We'll go back out.” She nuzzled her nose into his throat. “In just a second.”

“All right.” He smoothed his hand over her shoulder, trying to soothe her. “I need a minute anyway.”

“Because of this, right?”

Her hand cupped over his cock and Quinton squeezed his eyes shut, fighting off the rush of sensation.

“Dangerous, Ash.” He caught her wrist and drew her hand away, then to be safe, he put some space between them. But damn it, her breasts were still bared, plumped up in a tempting offering by the shape of her dress and the support bra. He had a raging boner, and propriety just didn't seem to matter all that much.

She sighed significantly, turned her back on him, and tucked herself away. “This is so embarrassing.”

“Why?” The single word sounded like a croak as he struggled with himself. He did not want her covering back up. Hell, he wanted to strip the dress off her and—

“This stupid push-up bra has all but pushed me right out of the dress. I don't have all that much to push—as you now know.”

“Far as I'm concerned,” he said, his voice hoarse with lust, “you're perfect.”

Over her bare shoulder, she looked at him. “Really?”

He shook his head in wonder. “How can you not know that when I keep losing my head over you?”

He glimpsed her smile before she gave him her back again. “Well, same here. I'm still trying to decide if I like the way you mess with my head.”

He didn't like the way she put that. “Ash—”

Arms out to her sides, she turned back around. “Okay?” Anxiety, and a vulnerability so sharp that it hurt him, shone in her makeup-smudged eyes.

“You're presentable.” He reached out to finger one long curl that had escaped her pins. “Hardly anyone will know what we were doing.”

That had her laughing. “
Hardly
anyone? I don't want a single soul to know.”

“Then we'd best readjust your hair.” One by one, he pulled out her pins until her heavy fall of hair hung free. With his fingers, he combed through it, straightened her part, and brushed it all behind her shoulders. “You are stunning, Ashley Miles.”

“Mascara smears and all, huh?”

“Apparently mascara smears turn me on.” He briefly kissed her bottom lip, then forced himself to slide his arm around her waist and draw her out of the room. “All right, woman, no more teasing me. Let's go before we're missed.”

 

Where was she?

Elton hadn't eaten or slept for too long to count. His head pounded and he felt weak, but he couldn't relax, not now, not while she eluded him.

She wasn't at home, wasn't at work, and she'd turned off her cell phone.

Exhaustion, hunger, and rage all combined to sharpen his desire for revenge. But he fought it. He wanted to do this cold, with a clear head. She deserved everything he could give her, every excruciating second of his punishment.

Just as Jude Jamison had been deserving.

He'd wanted Jude rotting in jail, but the bastard was so golden, he'd even slipped out of a guilty verdict. Still, it had given him pleasure knowing that most of the world reviled him, that most considered him a murderer.

Now, thanks to her, it was one big cluster fuck. Jude was free and happy, no longer under suspicion, and, without the world as his backup, Elton couldn't touch him.

Denny was so smug, strutting around, just begging for Elton to make a grab at him. But he wasn't an idiot. Denny was as off-limits now as were Tim and his idiot sister, May Price. Elton took some satisfaction in knowing the lengths Jude had taken to protect them all, because it showed his fear.

Jude knew what he was capable of. Jude knew what he could do to innocent little girls who turned on him.

Too bad Ashley Miles hadn't taken that into account before butting in.

His laugh sounded rusty and weak. That bitch had stolen his life. Thanks to her, he couldn't access his funds, couldn't contact his friends or visit his establishments. Luckily, he'd emptied one of his accounts before the cops could freeze it. Everyone assumed he'd used the money to skip town.

But he wouldn't leave yet, not before making her pay.

Trying to organize his scattered, churning thoughts, Elton paced across the tiny living room in the rusted, abandoned trailer. Dust rose in his wake and cockroaches scuttled across his shoes.

He curled his lip in revulsion. He used to be so fastidious, dining on the finest food, wearing the best designer clothes. Now he had to wash his hands with water from a jug and sustain himself on packaged cheese crackers and cold canned ham.

He'd once been every bit as polished as her…

Her boyfriend.

Ah. If Ashley wasn't at home, then she'd probably gone with her new lover. He snickered, remembering the satisfaction he'd felt in slashing the expensive tires. A cheap thrill, but these days, he took it where he could find it.

Discovering the man's identity and address had proved to be a piece of cake. Course, he was used to others doing the grunt work for him, but now, he found he enjoyed meting out the punishment himself. In the past, he hadn't had the stomach for it. But now, thanks to
her
, a ruined life gave him new strength.

She'd pay. And soon.

Only then could he get on with his life.

 

When the bouquet came flying her way—on purpose, Ashley didn't doubt—she sidestepped it, and it landed in the arms of Jude's sister. It was just dumb luck that she happened to catch Quinton's gaze a second later. He didn't smile, didn't mock her or look away. He stared at her, so long and deep and serious that her heart thumped against her breastbone and oxygen seemed in short supply.

The sounds of cheering and laughter and music faded away as he started toward her. Half an hour ago, she'd taken off her sandals and now her toes curled into the lush, cool lawn. Someone bumped her, but she paid no attention. All her focus was on Quinton and the anticipation that built with each step he took.

When he stood only a few feet away, he reached out a hand. “The bride and groom are leaving soon. I assume you want to see them off.”

“Oh.” What a dunce. “Right.” Had she really expected him to rush her behind the nearest bush? She had sex on the brain in a bad way.

A little disappointed, she took his hand and together, they followed the small crowd to the front of the house.

Rather than depart in a limo, Jude had purchased a luxurious RV that already held their luggage. It'd take them to the airport to start their thirteen-hour trip to Japan. Jude had plenty of security lined up so no one had reason to worry.

As usual, good-byes took forever, but before she left, May came to Ashley and hugged her for a very long time, her grip almost bruising. Over May's shoulder, Ashley could see Jude, Denny, and Quinton wearing tolerant grins, their expressions identical. Men.

But something about the way they watched the two of them brought out Ashley's suspicions. It almost appeared they had a well-kept secret among them.

When May released her, Ashley saw that she was shaking and new tears tracked down her cheeks. For a bride, she looked pretty rumpled and tearstained, but content in a way Ashley had never before observed.

May swallowed hard. “Thank you for being here with me today.”

“And where else would I be?” Then, giving in to her own overload of sentiment, Ashley said, “You're like my better half, May.” Her vision went blurry and she sniffed. “Have fun on your honeymoon. Don't you dare worry about a thing, but know that I'll miss you like crazy every single second that you're gone.”

May's voice broke on a sob, then she wailed, “
Me, too,”
and suddenly Jude was there, still smiling like a superior male as he pried the women apart and turned May into his chest.