After Midnight Part 22

It was Kane himself. The shock of his deep voice, unexpected, almost caused her to drop the receiver. She fumbled it back to her ear.

"Who is it?" came a curt demand.

"It's...Nikki."

There was a pause. "Are you all right?" he asked, and his voice was soft as velvet.

Tears stung her eyes. She blinked them away. The concern was awesome.

"I'm fine," she said. "How are you?"

"Notorious," he returned dryly. "I trust your brother is enjoying the public renumeration of my alleged sins in connection with this latest dumping scandal?"

"He isn't here."

There was another pause. "Dangerous, isn't it? Calling the enemy just to talk?"

"Could I see you?" she asked.

"Sure. They're showing a file photo of my back on TV right now. Turn on channel..."

"Kane, don't joke. I've...found out something. Thought out something," she corrected. "I have to talk to you."

"I don't trust you, Nikki," he said flatly. "And you shouldn't trust me."

"You saved my life," she said simply. "Think of it as the repayment of a debt. I don't have anything to say that could compromise you any more than you've already been compromised. But I think you should listen to me."

"Go ahead," he invited.

She started to speak and then thought about possibilities. The telephone could be bugged. It would be a simple thing for someone with Haralson's contacts to do. In fact, he had connections in the Justice Department, Clayton had said...

"Suppose I meet you somewhere?" she asked.

"Risky."

"It's more risky to talk on the telephone. Someone might be listening."

"That's true," Kane said. "Okay. Where?"

"Where I found you."

"When?"

She was getting the hang of this. It was almost fun. "At the same time you got to the party in Was.h.i.+ngton."

"I'll be there."

Nikki put on a pair of dark jeans and a white sweats.h.i.+rt with a jeweled rose on the front. This was going to take a little stealth. She'd looked out and the service truck she'd noticed earlier was still sitting there. It could be legitimate, of course, but she didn't think it was. There was some cloak-and-dagger stuff going on here. If someone was trying to follow her, for any reason, she was going to make it very difficult.

She went out through the bas.e.m.e.nt. The back lot had two big live oaks in it, with the sidewalk just beyond, on the narrow street by the bay. There were some young people in a crowd going along it. In fact they were headed toward her house. She intercepted them, finding Phoebe Keller and a handsome young man and another couple in her path.

"Nikki!" Phoebe said, grinning. "I was just coming to see you. I couldn't get Derrie on the phone and I thought she might be over here. It was just a whim, we were out walking..."

"Come along with me for a minute, will you?" Nikki asked, glancing beyond them. A man was leaning out of the truck window watching another man steal toward her house.

"What's going on?" Phoebe asked.

"I'm not sure. But I need to get away from the house without being seen."

"Hey, no problem," Phoebe's companion said. "Where do you want to go?"

"To Seabrook Island. I have to get a cab..."

"We'll take you down," Phoebe said gaily. "I love the island!"

"Will they let us on it?" the boy asked.

"I have my pa.s.s," Nikki a.s.sured them. "And the refrigerator's full..."

"Say no more," Phoebe said, clutching the boy's hand tightly. "Nikki, you angel, we haven't even had supper!"

"Don't expect haute cuisine," she teased. This was an unexpected bonus. For all intents and purposes, she'd be out with her friend's niece and the young crowd on the island. There was nothing to connect her with Kane, so far.

"Hamburgers are cuisine to us," Phoebe's male companion said, chuckling.

The beach house was all alight an hour later. Nikki took Phoebe to one side and turned up the radio. She couldn't take a chance that the beach house might be bugged, too. They weren't followed, she knew that. She'd watched all the way down here.

"Listen," she told Phoebe. "I've got to go down to the beach for a few minutes. Make a lot of noise, and if anyone comes asking for me, I'm lying down with a headache."

"Are you in trouble? Can I help?" Phoebe asked gently. "I know someone in law enforcement-well, sort of," she amended, remembering the new friend she'd made. She didn't know where to find him, but her aunt had mentioned talking to him. That had surprised-and disturbed-Phoebe. She knew her aunt Derrie was still in love with Clayton Seymour. But it bothered her that Cortez had gone to see Derrie, despite the fact that Derrie said it was just business talk. She felt rather proprietorial about Cortez, despite the age difference.

She shouldn't, but knowing it didn't help. She'd gone out with this young crowd tonight for no other reason than to force Cortez out of her mind.

Nikki cleared her throat impatiently.

"I'm sorry," Phoebe said. "I tend to drift off. Nikki, you're not in any trouble, are you?"

"Not yet. I may be soon, though," came the rueful reply. "Never mind. I'll be back in a little while."

"It's not too safe alone on that beach."

"I won't be alone." Nikki smiled and darted out the door.

Kane was leaning against a moss-dripping live oak, smoking a cigarette. It was his second.

"I didn't know that you smoked," Nikki said.

He turned and moved to meet her. They were in the shelter of the tree at the water's edge and couldn't be seen from the beach house or the neighbor's houses.

"I stopped smoking," he said. "Until a few weeks ago."

She wrapped her arms around herself. She couldn't see him very well in the moonlit darkness, but she felt the warmth and size of him and felt secure despite the hostility between them.

"There was a truck parked outside my house when I started to leave. I think the phone is bugged and I think I'm being watched."

"Were you followed?"

She shook her head. "I made sure." She looked up at him. "Something is going on. I seem to be in the middle of it, and so are you."

"Explain."

She leaned against the tree beside him, her eyes soft on what she could see of his face. She wanted so badly to go up close to him and slide her arms around him and let him hold her. It had been a long time since he'd held her so intimately at the party.

"Someone is framing you."

"What?"

"Haven't you figured it out?" she asked. "The leak may have been accidental. But the dumping came right on its heels, as if somebody knew you'd be on the EPA's. .h.i.t list for a prior offense. The dumping site was found with ridiculous ease. The logo of your company was stenciled on those containers in bright orange fresh paint. Add it up."

His cigarette was hanging in midair. He'd been so upset by the charges and the publicity and the unrelenting persecution that his ability to reason had been impaired. She was right. He hadn't appraised his situation at all. He'd been too busy defending it.

He s.h.i.+fted closer to her, and bent to talk more softly. "If your brother was behind it, would you tell me?"

"I love my brother," she said quietly. "I'd do almost anything for him. He doesn't realize that he's become entangled in this mess, too, but I do. Someone is using the campaign as an excuse to destroy your company and your credibility. I get cold chills just thinking about what could happen. It's cold-blooded and shrewd, and there has to be a very intelligent purpose behind it. I just can't think what. But it has to be more than an underhanded way to help Clayton win the election, don't you see?"

His eyes narrowed as he finished the cigarette and ground it out under his heel. "What good would it do to put me in front of the media as a target?"

"I don't know. But there must be some reason. Kane, I know you weren't responsible for what happened," she said fiercely.

He searched what he could see of her features. His head turned then and he stared out over the bay, toward the ocean, his eyes unseeing on the moonlight that sparkled in the waves.

"Why don't you think I did it?" he asked.

She sighed as she leaned her head against the tree to study him. "You love the ocean, don't you?" she asked. "You're a naturalist through and through. People like that don't try to destroy the environment."

His head turned toward her. "You're perceptive."

"I suppose so, at times. What will you do?"

"Nothing, except to keep my eyes and ears open."

"Kane, you won't go to jail, will you?" she asked worriedly.

"There's very little chance of that. Why?" he added. "Are you afraid I might drag your name into it for an alibi?"

"I know you wouldn't," she said quietly. "But I'd let you, if it meant a jail sentence otherwise."

His heard jumped, "And throw your brother's political career into the garbage?"

She didn't blink. "Yes."

He felt himself moving, without conscious volition. He reached for her, lifted her, riveted her to his powerful body. Then he kissed her, with the wind blowing in from the bay rippling her hair.

He backed her into the tree and edged himself between her jean-clad legs, s.h.i.+fting her abruptly so that the core of her was suddenly pressed to his raging arousal.

She gasped, but he didn't slow down. If anything, he became more ardent. She felt his hands on her thighs, under her taut bottom, lifting and pulling her into his hips so that only the fabric kept his body from penetrating hers right there.

"The bark would hurt your bare back," he said tightly, his breath moving against her lips as he spoke. "That's the only reason I haven't unzipped your jeans."

Her senses were dimmed, but returning. She s.h.i.+vered. The contact was so intimate that she was glad he couldn't see her face.

He moved sensually against her hips and she heard his breathing deepen. "Feel it?" he whispered. "I'm going to explode any minute."

She did blush, and buried her face in his throat.

Curiosity suddenly overcame his desire. His body stilled. "Nikki...what's wrong?"

She made a gesture with her head, and her burning face pressed closer.

He was remembering things. Confessions she'd made, little hints about a man she'd loved. She'd been married, but she'd said that her husband never wanted her. She'd said at one time that the man she loved...couldn't.

He felt his chest collapse under a rush of breath. He eased the crus.h.i.+ng weight of himself away from her softness and rested gently on her, instead.

"You'd better tell me, Nikki," he said slowly.

She drew her closed eyelids against the furious pulse in his throat. "You know already," she whispered. "You're very experienced, aren't you?"

"Experienced enough to know that I've shocked you. Nikki, I don't think you know what s.e.x is. Am I right?"

"Oh, I'd say I have a pretty good idea of what it is, right now," she managed with black humor.

He lifted his head and moved her so that he could see her flushed face in the moonlight. He eased her up, pressed to the tree, and softly thrust against her. Her expression was unmistakable.

"So many emotions," he remarked while he fought for control. "I see fear and shock and, beyond it, desire. But I don't think I could make you desperate enough to forget the consequences, could I?"

"No," she whispered.

He let her slide down the tree. The bark was rough at the back of her sweats.h.i.+rt. He held her by the waist, not quite touching him, and studied her.

"You've avoided men since the divorce, they say," he said. "Why? Because he couldn't and you didn't want to end up in the same trap again, wanting a man who couldn't take you? There's no possibility of that happening with me. I'm capable, in every way there is."

"So I noticed," she replied sheepishly.

"Nor do I practice irresponsible s.e.x," he persisted. He was almost shaking with pa.s.sion. His hands contracted. "My house is empty. Deserted. And it's not bugged. You could scream if you wanted to," he whispered seductively. "I might even make you want to."

She remembered the feel of him against her and the sound she'd made. It was a little embarra.s.sing.

He smoothed back her disheveled hair with hands that had a faint tremor. Then he began to unb.u.t.ton his s.h.i.+rt, slowly, letting her see his chest come into view. There were beads of sweat clinging to the thick hairs that covered him to the collarbone, and his bronzed muscles were damp.