Moonlight Lady Page 12

  He brought her closer. The laughter stopped. She looked at him, her head cocked to one side as though puzzled. He let her down slowly so that she slid along the length of his body. The T-shirt pushed up; their wet nakedness touched. Her eyes went wide, then sleepy with desire.

  Still holding her like that, he kissed her. Her lips parted under his. His hands slid around to cup her bottom.

  “I can’t wait,” he said, and holding her like that, he thrust into her.

  “No,” she protested. “We can’t... What if somebody...”

  He pressed her closer, moving hard against her, caught up in the wildness of it, the craziness of a desire so intense that he couldn’t have stopped if a platoon of Florida alligators had come after them.

  He plunged and withdrew to plunge again, and each time he did she made little puffing sounds, like he was pushing the breath right out of her. She clung to him, her legs wrapped around his, holding him the way he held her. Then suddenly her head went back and the little puffs of breath became frenzied cries of helplessness. There was sun on her face and passion in her eyes, and with the knowledge that it was as good for her as it was for him, he lost it. He wrapped his arms around her, hanging on as though if he didn’t he’d shoot right up out of the water.

  It had lasted maybe four minutes—the best four minutes of his life. When he eased her down into the water, she slumped against him, her heart racketing against his chest.

  “Open your eyes and kiss me,” he said.

  She opened her eyes. She kissed him, softly, gently, and something deep inside him, an emotion so new it scared the living hell out of him, stirred to life.

  He said her name, “Lisa?” with a sense of unreality. What was happening here? This wasn’t the way he usually behaved. He was a realist, a meat-and-potatoes man. He didn’t believe in sunlit pools or waterfalls or summer mornings or being so moved by beauty that it was all he could do not to bawl like a baby. This dame had bewitched him. He wasn’t going to let this happen.

  She touched the side of his face. “What is it, Sam?” she asked. “Darling, what is it?”

  “Damned if I know,” he said, trying to sound tough. But he made the mistake of looking at her again. His insides turned to mush. He held her, his face against hers, not sure what was happening to him, not even sure that he liked it.

  “Let’s get out of here,” he said.

  Without a word she swam beside him to the shore. He planned to cut this short, tell her they had to get going.

  She came up out of the pond, sluicing the water from her body, slicking back her hair, unaware that the T-shirt showed every curve. It clung to her breasts and her nipples and hiked up over her thighs.

  “Oh, hell!” he said, giving in. And with a wicked growl, picked her up and headed for the grassy place beside a bed of ferns.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “Losing what’s left of my mind.” He laid her down and stood glowering at her.

  “Take that damn shirt off,” he said, his voice made harsh because of all of the conflicting emotions churning inside him.

  She started nibbling on her lower lip.

  He knelt beside her. “Want me to do it?”

  She raised her arms above her head.

  He couldn’t figure out why his hands were shaking. He pulled the shirt up and off. She hugged her knees, partially hiding her breasts.

  “Uh-uh.” He drew her hands away and rolled her back onto the grass. He tried hard to remember she wasn’t his type, that he liked tall brunettes, not pocket-size blondes. She was pocket-size, all right, and absolute perfection from the top of her curly head right down to her red toenails.

  He laid one hand over her breast. “You affect me in strange and pleasurable ways,” he said. “I didn’t want to get involved with you. I told myself that from the beginning.”

  “Because you thought I was involved with Howard Reitman.” She nodded. “I know it’s different now, but in the beginning, the night we went out to dinner and afterward we kissed and—”

  “Couldn’t stop kissing.”

  “Yes.” She looked up at him. “Did you kiss me then because you thought I was a part of this terrible thing with Howard and Montoya? Because you thought if you got close to me you might find out something about them?”

  “No, Lisa. I kissed you in spite of what I thought. I kissed you because I couldn’t keep my hands off you. I couldn’t then, I can’t now.”

  He kissed her, a long, deep kiss, and when he let her go he lay beside her and nuzzled his head against her breasts. She threaded her fingers in his hair and held him there, soothing him as though she understood all of his inner turmoil. He felt the sun on his back, warming him as she warmed him. In a little while he parted her legs and rested that throbbing part of himself against her.

  “This is how much I want you,” he said.

  Her body shifted, enclosing him. Slowly, slowly, he moved against her, feeling his excitement build, hearing the harsh sound of his own breathing as she moved with him. This is madness, he thought. We did this only a little while ago. How can I want her again? Why do I want her again? Then all thought faded and he kissed her. He touched his tongue to hers. He kissed her breasts, and when she moved beneath him and he knew she wanted it as much as he did, he joined his body to hers.

  He went deep into the very heart of her. He felt her warmth close about him and listened to her sweet sounds of pleasure. She wrapped him in her arms and in her legs. She sought his mouth and whispered, “Oh, Sam. Oh, Sam.”

  She made him feel like a conqueror, a pirate, a king of the forest. But most of all he felt like a man, a man who would live and love forever. He could hold nothing back from her, he would give his all, everything he was, everything he had ever hoped to be. Because with her everything seemed possible.

  He wanted to possess her, to become a part of her, to stay like this forever with her, in her. She lifted herself to him and they did become one as they raced together toward that final moment. She clasped him to her breast, and when he said, “Tell me! Tell me!” She surged against him.

  “Yes, yes, yes, yes...” she whispered.

  Heart racing, body on fire, he plunged into her, again and again, crying out each time, unable to stop himself because he could not hold back the joy and the wonder of it. He clasped her face between his hands and rained kisses over her closed eyes, her cheeks, her mouth. He said her name again and again, and held her as though he would never let her go.

  * * *

  He knew they should get up and get moving, but Lord, it was heaven to lie here like this with her. He’d never been more content. He was happy as a sixteen-year-old with his first girl, as weak from their loving as a ninety-year-old man after a twenty-six-mile marathon.

  Her eyes were closed; her head was resting on his shoulder. Sun streaked down through the trees and across her body, making shadowy patterns on her breasts, turning her skin to gold. In a little while they would get up and get on the Harley to pursue Juan Montoya. But for now, for this brief space in time, they could hold each other in this sweet aftermath of their lovemaking.

  “Are you sleeping?” he asked.

  “No.” She opened her eyes. “But I may never move again, and if I do, I’ll probably walk funny.” She grinned. “You’ve ruined me, O’Shaughnessy. I’m weak as a newborn kitten, depleted, exhausted...” She hesitated, and raising herself on one elbow, said, “And happier than I’ve ever been.” She ran a finger down the length of his nose to his lips and traced them with the tip of her finger. “I didn’t know anything could be like this...like it is with you.”

  His eyes stung. And because he didn’t want her to know what her words meant, he said, “Yeah, it was all right....” But he couldn’t go on, couldn’t pretend that it wasn’t everything he’d ever hoped and dreamed making love with a woman could be. He pulled her back into his arms and pressed her head against his shoulder. “I didn’t know, either,” he said. “Not until now.”

/>   They held each other like that, but in a little while, because she wanted to know everything there was to know about him, she said, “Tell me about you, Sam.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Everything. Where did you grow up?”

  “Chicago. Well, Chicago and Detroit.” He shifted and brought her closer so that she rested with her head in the hollow of his shoulder. “My parents were killed in a bus accident when I was thirteen and I went to live with my mother’s brother in Detroit. Uncle Frank was a really weird guy. I don’t think he drew a sober breath the last thirty years of his life.

  “He wasn’t a mean man, and I suppose in his own way he did the best he could for me. I had enough to eat, money for clothes and books, but he really didn’t care whether I went to school or not.”

  “But you did? Go to school, I mean?”

  “Yeah, because I figured it was the only way out of Detroit. I graduated from high school and a couple of days later joined the navy. I was a tough kid, but they straightened me out. I liked it and I stayed in for eight years. When I got out I bummed around New York for a while, then joined the NYPD. I got interested in criminology and took night courses at NYU. A couple of years ago I was promoted to lieutenant.”

  “My brother, Jimmy, joined the navy when he was seventeen, too,” Lisa said. “Only he didn’t wait until he graduated. He left home before that.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “I don’t know, Sam. I haven’t seen him since he left. He sent a card to my mother from the Brooklyn Navy Yard after he joined up. My father wanted to have him arrested and brought home, but the navy recruiting officer in Dayton just laughed at him.”

  “How old were you when you left?”

  “Seventeen.”

  Seventeen and alone. Little girl lost, fending for herself. He tightened his arms around her and wondered what she’d do if he told her he’d checked up on her. At the time it had been the right thing to do, but now he wished he hadn’t. And because he didn’t want there to be any lies or secrets between them, he said, “I’ve got something I have to tell you. I don’t like telling it and you won’t like hearing it.”

  She peered up at him, puzzled. “What is it, Sam?”

  “When I thought you were involved with Reitman I had you checked out.”

  “Checked out?” She looked like she didn’t even know what that meant.

  “I asked Hargreaves—he’s the captain of police in Kingston—to run a check on you. He contacted Tipp City. There was an old, outstanding warrant for your arrest.”

  Lisa pulled away from him and sat up. “For my arrest? What for?”

  “I don’t know. It was for a long time ago, eleven or twelve years.”

  For years she’d looked over her shoulder, afraid that someday there’d be a knock on the door and it would be her father. Or she’d feel a hand on her shoulder and when she turned he’d be standing there.

  “My—my father. He...must have tried to find me. To bring me back.”

  Fear choked her. It didn’t matter that it was unreasonable, it was there, deep inside her. It scarred her mind just the way his belt had scarred her legs.

  She stared at him. He saw the terror in her eyes. “My God,” he said. “You’re still that afraid of him.”

  “I—I guess I am. I wanted to go back to see him and I...I asked Philip to go with me. I didn’t tell him why I wanted to go. I thought if I faced my father, if I asked him why he’d treated me the way he did, maybe I’d be able to put the past behind me. But Philip wouldn’t go with me and I...” She shook her head. “I’m ashamed of this, Sam, but I honestly was afraid to go alone.”

  “We’ll go together,” he said. “When this is over I’ll take you. I’ll be right there beside you.”

  And when you’re not there, he told himself, I’ll go back and beat the hell out of the son of a bitch.

  In a little while they went back into the water, and this time Lisa didn’t put her T-shirt on. They swam, and when they came out, they dressed and had a breakfast of the sweet yams Rebecca had given them, along with some cheese and a piece of hard bread.

  Just before they left, Sam looked back at the place where they had slept together, a slice of paradise here in this jungle setting.

  He put his arms around Lisa and held her close. “We’ll always remember this, and how we were together here.” he said.

  Then, because he knew he must, he took her hand and they went back to the Harley.

  Chapter 11

  The gravel road narrowed the higher they went. Sam didn’t go as fast as he had the day before and it was pleasant to ride along with the wind in her face, enjoying the countryside, waving to the farmers in their fields or the housewives puttering in their yards. Smoke rose from braziers in front of the few houses they passed; the smell of farm animals and roasting corn filled the air. When they passed a farmer leading a small herd of goats, Sam stopped.

  “Afternoon,” he said. “I wonder if you could tell me how far we are from the next town?”

  “That be Maroon Town, sir. No more than five mile from here.” He poked at one of the smaller goats with his stick. “You want to buy her?” he asked. “Tie her there behind the lady. Make you mighty fine dinner.”

  “Don’t think so,” Sam said.

  The man looked at Lisa, and with a wink said, “I trade you my ten best goats for her.”

  “Ten?” Sam shook his head. “Sorry, friend, no deal. If you want to double it—”

  Lisa pinched him and he laughed. “Guess not,” he told the man as he rolled away. “But thanks for the offer.”

  The man laughed, too, and waved until Sam was out of sight.

  “Twenty goats?” Lisa said. “You’d trade me for twenty goats?”

  “Woman, I wouldn’t trade you for a whole herd of goats, with a couple of million bucks thrown in.”

  “Okay,” she said, and reached up to kiss the back of his neck.

  He wished he wasn’t a cop, wished he was an insurance man—just a guy on vacation with a great-looking gal. Here in Jamaica for a little fun in the sun, and when it was over he’d go back to selling life insurance.

  But Lisa wasn’t just a good-looking gal and he wasn’t in life insurance. He was here on a job and he couldn’t rest until the job was finished and Montoya was safely back in a cell. As for Lisa...there’d be time to think about that when all this was behind him.

  He wanted to tell himself that he’d made a mistake by becoming intimate with her. Maybe before he’d thought that if they made love he’d get her out of his system. But he knew he hadn’t, wasn’t sure he ever would.

  He’d try to find a way to send her back from Maroon Town, maybe get her to Kingston and have Hargreaves put her in protective custody. He had to know she was safe so that he could concentrate on Montoya. Couldn’t concentrate unless she was out of harm’s way.

  Maroon Town was a small place with a couple of stores, a fruit-and-vegetable market, a one-pump gas station, an open-air restaurant and a hotel. He parked the Harley in front of the hotel.

  “Let’s see if there’s a phone,” he said as he helped Lisa off.

  There was one on the registration desk in the lobby. Sam approached the man behind the desk. “I’d like to make a call to Kingston,” he said.

  The man indicated the phone. “Certainly, sir.”

  “It’s a private call.”

  “Then perhaps you’d like to step into our private office,” the man said. “There’s a phone there you can use. If you’ll give me the number, I’ll be glad to get it for you.”

  “I can’t dial direct?”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  He didn’t like it. He’d have no way of knowing if the desk clerk listened in. But he had to make the call.

  “Okay.” He wrote the number of the Kingston police on a piece of paper and handed it to the clerk. “Do you have a dining room?”

  “Through that door, sir.”

  “Why don’t you go
in and have something to drink?” Sam said to Lisa. “I’ll join you when I’m through.”

  The clerk indicated another room. “You may go in there,” he said.

  Sam went in and closed the door behind him. Five minutes went by before the phone rang. He picked it up and somebody said, “Kingston Police. May I help you?”

  “I want to talk to Hargreaves.”

  “Who may I say is calling?”

  “Sam O’Shaughnessy.”

  “A moment please, Mr. O’Shaughnessy.”

  Sam tapped impatient fingers on the table. Another five minutes went by and finally Filoberto said, “Sam? Where are you? I’ve tried for three days to get you.”

  “I’m in Maroon Town.”

  “In Cockpit Country? What are you doing there?”

  “Following Montoya and Reitman.”

  “Good Lord! Why didn’t you call before?”

  “Couldn’t get to a phone.”

  “You’re sure they’re there? In Cockpit Country?”

  “They were yesterday. I chased one of them. He took a couple of shots at us, missed a curve and went over the mountain. So yeah, I’m sure.”

  “Do you have any idea where...” Hargreaves paused. “Us?” he said. “Did you say us?”

  “Yeah. I’m with Lisa Collier.”

  “What in the world are you doing with her?”

  “It’s a long story. But I can tell you one thing for sure, she’s not involved with Montoya or Reitman. They know she knows about them, though, and she can testify that Reitman is mixed up in the drug operation. I want her somewhere safe. I’d like you to put her in a hotel in protective custody with a twenty-four guard.”

  “Yes, all right. I’ll arrange it. Now what about you?”

  “All I’ve got is your Harley, a couple of guns and some ammo. I don’t know for sure where Montoya and his boys are, but when I catch up with them I’m going to need some backup.”