Bounty Hunter Ransom Read online

  But hearing the news of Patti’s death had done something to her. All the caution she’d cultivated throughout her whole life went right out the window. She’d meant what she’d said to Beau. Life was short, and so uncertain. She was simply no longer compelled to guard her heart so carefully.

  Guard it for what? So she wouldn’t get hurt? Oh, poor baby. Her beautiful cousin was lying on a cold slab at the morgue. That was something to fear. A few emotional bruises were nothing by comparison.

  Beau fell back onto the bed, taking her with him. She twisted to a more comfortable position, throwing her leg across him. The towel he’d wrapped around his hips for modesty got bunched under her, somehow, so she yanked it free and threw it on the floor.

  Beau pulled her nightshirt up to bare her midriff and breasts, so she could lie across him, hot skin to hot skin. His arousal pressed against her belly. She wiggled against him and rubbed back and forth, needing to experience the texture of his skin, the roughness of his chest hair against her sensitized nipples. That earned her a groan from Beau. He placed his hands on either side of her head and kissed her, hard, his fingers tangling in her tousled curls.

  The sensory overload was almost too much. Her core felt as though it was about to have a serious meltdown. She didn’t want any teasing or gentle caresses or soft sighs. She wanted mutual possession, and she wanted it now before the chance somehow slipped away from her.

  Beau turned his head to the side, breaking the kiss. “Um, Aubrey…”

  “I’m not going to allow you to be sensible,” she said, breathing hard. “I know the timing is bad. But damn it, Beau, I need this. I need something to hold on to over the next few days. It doesn’t have to mean anything. I’m not a clinging vine, and I won’t try to turn this into something it’s not. But—”

  “Hey, take it easy.” He cupped her face in one hand, gently, and she realized maybe soft caresses were part of what she needed. “I was only going to ask you if you want me to do something about protection.”

  “Oh. Yes. Good. Good idea.”

  She raised up to let him scoot out from underneath her, taking the opportunity to appreciate what a splendid body he had. The muscles in his broad back stretched and slithered over one another as he reached into the drawer of the nightstand. Then she noticed the terrible bruise on his shoulder.

  “My God, Beau. Your shoulder…”

  He closed the drawer and leaned back on the pillows. “It’s just a bruise.”

  “It’s the biggest bruise I’ve ever seen.”

  “That’s what I get for using my body as a battering ram.”

  “Oh, Beau.” She kissed him again, harder, her desire blossoming as she remembered what he’d gone through to rescue her last night.

  That was the last they talked for a long while. Aubrey stopped kissing him long enough to draw the nightshirt over her head and toss it aside. She was naked underneath. She draped herself atop him once again, reveling in the feel of his erection pressed against the tender flesh of her inner thigh.

  Beau squeezed her bottom, pressing her against his hardness, and he groaned each time she thrust her pelvis against him, instinctively mimicking the dance of sex.

  She suspected he was holding back for her, but in truth she was ready. She didn’t want to count the years she’d waited for this moment, she just wanted it to happen. She grabbed the plastic packet out of his hand and ripped it open with her teeth.

  “Do this,” she ordered him. Her hands were shaking, and she assumed he’d had more practice at it than she had. He obliged her, accomplishing the task of sheathing himself efficiently, no fumbling.

  As soon as he was ready, he rolled her over and nudged her legs open. “Like this?”

  “Like, any way you want it.” Just now, please. She hoped he wouldn’t make her beg, but she was about to.

  He didn’t disappoint her. He entered her in one swift, smooth motion. The sensation of fullness was so pleasant, so unexpectedly blissful, that she had to close her eyes and savor it.

  Beau placed his elbows on either side of her and kissed her at her temple, smoothing her hair out of her face. “Okay?”

  She opened her mouth to tell him it was more than okay, that she’d never felt anything as fabulous as Beau Maddox inside her. How had she lived twenty-eight years without it? But no words came out of her mouth. Instead she squeaked.

  “Aubrey?”

  “Ah, yeah,” was all she managed.

  He began moving, slowly at first, creating a friction so exquisite Aubrey thought she might expire from it. The rhythm quickly accelerated. She heard a scream, not quite believing she’d made it herself. And then the world exploded.

  “Aubrey, oh, Aubrey, honey…”

  It felt as though she’d blacked out for a moment. When she came back to reality, she felt bathed in an incredible sense of rightness. Not quite contentment, because she knew in the back of her mind that Patti was still dead and Sara still missing. But somehow she knew now that she could get through the day.

  Beau was now lying beside her, holding her softly, playing with a strand of her hair. “That was as good as I ever imagined it would be. And I have a pretty good imagination.”

  Somehow she managed a smile. “Thank you. For indulging me, I mean. I know it seems crazy, to have sex when I just found out—”

  “It’s normal.”

  With some effort, she dragged her mind back to the real world. “We have to get moving. I promised Lyle I’d go to Uncle Wayne’s and break the news.”

  “I’ll come with you.”

  “You don’t have to. If you could just take me back to my car—”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

  Yesterday she would have bristled at his bossy tone. Today she just sighed, liking the proprietary note in his voice. For a little while, at least, she wanted to indulge in the naive fantasy that he actually cared for her, that they might somehow get past the fact that he was a lawless bounty hunter who’d shot her brother, and that this crazy act of passion she’d practically forced on him might lead to something more.

  THOUGH IT HAD BEEN years since Beau had set foot on the Clarendon estate, he knew the way by heart. He was surprised, however, to find a set of cast-iron gates blocking the driveway. The gates had always been there, he supposed, but he couldn’t recall anyone ever closing them. The security keypad and intercom were new, too.

  He pulled up to the keypad and pushed the intercom button, then let Aubrey do the talking. She leaned across him to get closer to the microphone. He could smell his shampoo in her hair, and it drove him wild. He had to stop himself from touching the soft reddish curls, still slightly damp from her shower. He had no idea whether she would continue to welcome physical intimacy from him, or whether this morning was a onetime deal. The circumstances were so odd, he had no way of knowing. He knew what he wanted—to get her back in bed as soon as possible. But he might not be thinking straight.

  “David? Is that you?” Aubrey asked when a male voice came over the speaker, asking in a friendly tone who was there. “It’s me, Aubrey.”

  “Aubrey!” David sounded very pleased. The gates immediately opened.

  Beau drove through, then up the long driveway around a huge fountain toward the limestone mansion. He’d forgotten how huge this place was, but it was definitely one of the biggest estates in Payton. Wayne Clarendon was old money. His grandfather had been one of Payton’s first mayors.

  “Would you mind if I dropped you off?” Beau asked.

  “Gee, what happened to ‘I’m not letting you out of my sight’?”

  “You should be safe enough here, with the security gates and all. There are bars on the windows, too.” On both floors, everything but the attic. When had Wayne Clarendon become paranoid? “I have something I need to do.” What he really needed to do was dump a couple of his cases on Rex Bettencourt, the other bounty hunter who worked at First Strike. Protecting Aubrey had just become his full-time job.
Ace probably wouldn’t be happy about his new gig, since there was no money in it, but that was tough. One of the things he loved about being a bounty hunter was being able to pick and choose his cases. He wasn’t hurting for money, especially not with the reward money for the Langford kid he’d soon be receiving.

  “You’re going after her, aren’t you?” Aubrey asked anxiously.

  “You mean Sara?”

  Aubrey nodded. “You’re the best at tracking down fugitives and missing persons—everyone says so. If anyone can find Sara, you can.”

  “Um, no, I wasn’t planning to go after Sara.” He couldn’t protect Aubrey and search for Sara at the same time. “Look, much as I despise Lyle Palmer, this time I think he’s right. Patti stashed Sara someplace she thought would be safe.” Aubrey had filled him in on the details as they’d driven over. “Now, maybe it’s not someplace you or I would think of, and it might take a while to figure it out. She obviously wasn’t thinking clearly. But Sara will probably turn up in the next few hours, as soon as news of Patti’s death gets out.”

  “Would it hurt to start looking for her now anyway?”

  “I’m sure the police are doing what they can. They’ve got more personnel and more resources than I do. Besides, if I got involved, Lyle would say I’m interfering with a police investigation. He’d love nothing better than to throw my butt in jail.”

  Aubrey studied him through narrowed eyes. “Okay.”

  Something was wrong with her sudden agreement. “Look, I’ll talk to Craig, okay? I’ll make sure everything’s being done that should be done.” Craig was his former partner on the force, and one of the few cops in this town that he trusted implicitly.

  “Okay,” Aubrey said again as he pulled to a stop in front of the mansion.

  “I’ll come back in a couple of hours.”

  “Don’t bother.”

  “Okay, what did I do wrong?”

  She didn’t answer. Impulsively he leaned over to peck her on the cheek. She ducked away from him before his lips could make contact and climbed out of the car as if it were on fire. She slammed the door and didn’t give him a backward glance as she headed for the columned porch that sheltered the mansion’s front entrance.

  “Well, hell,” he muttered. He’d been hoping her attitude toward him had softened after their incredible lovemaking this morning. Then he realized how foolish a hope that was. He and Aubrey had had sex—a simple release of tension that had done them both a world of good. Beyond that, he couldn’t say, but it appeared he was definitely in the doghouse again.

  AUBREY SHOOK OFF her anger at Beau and focused on the upcoming meeting with her relatives. Again she berated herself for not staying in better touch with them. It was terrible that a tragedy brought them together now.

  David opened the door before Aubrey could knock, welcoming her with the boyish smile and twinkling blue eyes that made him look younger than his true age, which was the same as hers. He wore faded jeans that bore the crease of an iron, and a pale blue cotton button-down. The long sleeves seemed ridiculous in this weather, but David had always been a natty dresser. They had all teased him about it when he was a kid.

  “Aubrey, come in!” He looked past her at Beau’s retreating Mustang. “Who dropped you off?”

  “Beau Maddox,” she said as she stepped inside.

  David’s jaw dropped. “How is that possible?”

  “A strange set of circumstances, I’ll be the first to admit. But he literally saved my life last night, so I’m trying to give him the benefit of the doubt.”

  “Come on, I think we need to sit down and talk about this. How did he save your life?” David led the way into the plush living room. Not a stick of furniture had changed since Aubrey had been a child. Some of the upholstery was new, but the colors hadn’t changed—still Chinese red and sapphire blue, with pristine white carpet and white walls. No clutter on the mantle, nothing to mar the symmetry—except a flash of green peeking out from under the sofa.

  It looked like a child’s toy, Aubrey thought. In fact, it reminded her specifically of Sara’s favorite toy, a set of plastic keys on a green ring.

  “Aubrey, what’s wrong?” David asked as he guided her to the sofa and sat next to her. “What happened last night?”

  Aubrey swallowed back the lump trying to form in her throat. “Oh, David, I don’t know how to do this except to blurt it out. Patti’s dead. The police say she killed herself.” She told David everything Lyle had reported this morning, or as much as she could remember. He listened, a stunned expression on his face.

  “Are the police sure it was her?” he asked.

  “Lyle Palmer knows her, and he identified her. She didn’t come here after we talked, did she? She didn’t leave Sara here?”

  “No. Dear God, are you telling me Sara is missing?”

  Aubrey nodded miserably.

  David put his face in his hands. “I feel so terrible. When she called, I brushed her off. She said she was in trouble, but she was always saying that, always overdramatizing everything.”

  “I know. David, don’t blame yourself.”

  “Still, she’s my sister. I should have tried harder to get her off drugs and away from those low-life scumbags she hung out with. But you run out of energy and patience, finally. The lies, the little thefts, it wears you down. I guess I gave up on her and now…” He closed his eyes and pressed the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger, as if willing back tears. “Shouldn’t I have seen the signs?” His voice was thick with emotion. “Shouldn’t I have recognized she was suicidal?”

  “I don’t think she was. I mean, it’s crazy, saying she killed herself. I don’t mean to speak ill of the dead, but she was too selfish to take that route.”

  “Are you saying you think someone…murdered her?”

  “Yes. This drug dealer she owed money to. He sort of beat me up last night. That’s what I meant about Beau saving my life. He was helping me. We were trying to figure out who was threatening Patti, and we found out.”

  “Aubrey,” David said, sounding alarmed, “don’t go messing with this stuff. Let the police handle it.”

  “Beau’s an ex-cop.”

  “He’s an idiot if he let you put yourself in danger. No more, I mean it. You’re not Batgirl.” He paused, seeming to collect himself. “Did you tell the cops you think it was murder?”

  “Yes, but Lyle doesn’t agree. I’m sure the…autopsy will tell us more.” She hated to think about that, hated to even say the word out loud.

  “Oh, Aubrey, no. Patti wouldn’t want that. Do you have any idea what they do during—”

  “We don’t have any choice, anyway, David. It’s mandatory with any unexplained death. You’re a lawyer, you know that.”

  “Damn.” He got up suddenly. “Why the hell didn’t I listen to her? I could have protected her. She and Sara could have stayed here. Hell, I could have given her the money one more time. What’s a few thousand dollars? Certainly not worth killing yourself over.” He paused. “What about Sara?”

  “Lyle thinks Patti must have left Sara someplace safe before she…you know. But then, why didn’t she just leave Sara at the baby-sitter’s? She made a point of picking her up.”

  “Maybe she was going to leave Sara with you. You said she called and asked you to come home, right?”

  “Yes, but…I suppose that’s possible. Then she got spooked and fled. But if that’s the case, where is Sara?”

  “Are the police even looking for her?”

  “Yes, but they aren’t treating the matter with any urgency.”

  “Damn cops. I’ll tell you one thing. When they find her, I’m going to be a better uncle. I’ll adopt her! I’ll treat her as if she were my own child. I’ll give her the stable life she never would have had with Patti.”

  Aubrey bristled at the criticism of Patti. She started to object, but then she remembered David hadn’t been around Patti in the last year, when she’d turned her life around. Instead she said, “
Patti named me as Sara’s guardian in her will.”

  David looked up, startled. “Really? Well, you aren’t stuck with it. It’s not binding. The courts have to decide who gets custody, though they’ll take her wishes under consideration.”

  “Oh. Well, I just thought I’d mention it.”

  “Do you want Sara?” he asked bluntly.

  “Oh, yes. Yes, I really do.”

  “I suppose you’d be a good parent,” he conceded. “I don’t know much about children. But we don’t have to worry about that now. First we have to find her.”

  Neither said anything for a couple of minutes. Finally Aubrey remembered that there was someone else they needed to tell. “David? How’s Uncle Wayne? How’s he going to take this?”

  David shrugged. “He’s actually better today. He got up, got dressed. We had breakfast together. I left him reading the paper. Oh, God, it won’t be in the paper, will it?”

  “No. They think she died yesterday afternoon, but they only found her this morning.”

  “We better go tell Dad. He’s in the breakfast room.”

  Aubrey was shocked by her uncle’s appearance. He’d lost at least thirty pounds since the last time she’d seen him, and his golf shirt and khaki pants hung on his thin frame, giving him a scarecrow appearance. His once-thick silver hair stuck out in wispy clumps on his head. His eyes and cheeks were sunken, and his complexion was a ghastly yellow.

  When he looked up and saw Aubrey, however, he smiled and his blue eyes twinkled like David’s, and Aubrey recognized the uncle she remembered.

  “Aubrey, dear, how lovely to see you. Come give your uncle a hug.”

  She did. His body felt frail when she clasped him, and he wobbled unsteadily. “Uncle Wayne, why didn’t you tell me you’d been ill? I’d have come much sooner. I’m ashamed I stayed away so long.”

  “I don’t blame you, dear,” he said, reclaiming his seat. “Sit down, sit down. Would you like some coffee? Beronica can brew us up a fresh pot.”