Raven on the Wing Read online

  Josh’s expression was still serious, and a muscle briefly worked in his jaw. But his kiss was gentle. “I’ve been rushing you since the night we met, haven’t I?”

  “Oh, you noticed that?”

  He kissed her again, not quite as gently this time, and both felt the inexorable rise of desire. A bit thickly, Josh asked, “Am I rushing you now?”

  Raven wound her arms around his neck, losing herself in sensation as his mouth found her breast. “Who cares?” she murmured, and forgot the world again.

  Rafferty looked up from the papers spread out on the desk and peered at Zach as the big man moved restlessly to the bar and fixed himself a drink. “Go to bed,” the lawyer advised dryly.

  “I don’t see you sleeping.”

  “That’s because your summons caught me in the middle of a case; I have to work sometime, don’t I?” He wasn’t really surprised that Zach barely listened.

  Zach stared at his empty glass as if it had offended him in some way. “Dammit, he should be back by now. He should have been back hours ago. It’s three o’clock.”

  “He won’t be back before dawn,” Rafferty said calmly. “If then.”

  “It’s dangerous.”

  “Of course it’s dangerous.”

  Zach sat down on the couch and pulled a deck of cards toward him, then began to deal a hand of solitaire. “Dammit,” he grunted morosely.

  Lucas emerged from his bedroom in a robe, but looked alert. “You two would wake the dead,” he complained in the tone of a man who just wanted something to say and didn’t particularly care what it was.

  Rafferty, a little amused, sat back in his chair and sighed. “Look, guys, he’s a big boy.”

  “Who?” Lucas asked rather unconvincingly.

  Zach placed a black nine on a black ten, and frowned at the result. “You two shouldn’t have let him go in there alone,” he said.

  “I didn’t think he needed any help,” Rafferty said.

  Lucas poured a drink for himself and then promptly ignored it to pace over to the window. “Be daylight in a couple of hours,” he said to no one in particular.

  Gathering up his papers, Rafferty said in a brisk tone, “He’ll fire all three of us if he finds us waiting up for him.”

  Lucas swung around to face them. “Maybe we should—”

  “No,” the lawyer said instantly.

  Zach sighed and agreed heavily, casting his cards aside. “No. He sure wouldn’t thank us for it. In fact, he probably would fire all three of us. He’d be with her right now even if she were on the deck of the Titanic.”

  “Or inside the gates of hell,” Rafferty acknowledged softly. “It must be something to feel like that. It must really be something.”

  There was a smothering sensation of dread and the sick feeling of being surrounded by icy shadows and menacing movements more felt than seen. The same nightmare, always the same, and she knew that the shadows would go away if she could only wake herself up and turn on a light. But she’d see Tara’s face, Tara’s body, if she turned on the light; that was what kept her trapped in the darkness. She couldn’t bear to see Tara again, not like that, not the way she had been in that awful house. It would happen all over again. She’d blindly feel her way through that dark smoky room and turn on a light, only to see her sister … the dying creature her sister had become. Darkness was closing around her and she moaned, cold and alone, unable to turn on a light and leave the darkness that was choking her.

  Then she heard a low sound, gentle and soothing, and felt sudden warmth wrap around her. The darkness receded slowly and she could breathe again.

  For the first time, she didn’t wake screaming.

  Josh, still shaken, held her close to him, his hands stroking her hair soothingly. The sound she had made in her sleep had been a soft one, but it had chased chills through him. The sound of an animal in pain. He lifted a hand to stroke her cheek and forehead, relieved to find the clamminess gone.

  The lamp was still on, and he stared at the ceiling while she slept in apparent peace beside him. Nightmares. Shadows from the past? He could guess the cause, and wondered if Raven would be haunted always by the sister she had found dying.

  Was that the part of her past that forever would color the present and future? Or could he somehow reach into a guarded, wounded soul and help heal her? Josh didn’t know.

  He knew only that he had to. Somehow.

  Josh woke in the faint gray of dawn, instantly aware of coldness, where before there had been warmth. He sat up in a quick movement, then stilled as he saw her by the window. She was wearing the white robe and stood well to one side of the window, where no one watching from outside could have seen her, barely lifting the heavy drape to look out.

  Her expression was intense; Josh didn’t think she was conscious at all of her guardedness. And that somehow made it all the more chilling.

  “Raven?”

  She turned, smiling, and moved toward the bed. “Good morning.” She drew one leg up as she sat on the bed, the short robe parting to bare her thigh, and Josh found his hand going to her silken flesh as though drawn by a magnet.

  “Good morning.” He curled his free hand around her neck, drawing her gently forward for his kiss, and then sent a very reluctant glance toward the light struggling to penetrate the drapes. “I suppose I should leave.”

  “Probably.” Her smile wavered for an instant. “If you were seen leaving, it could be dangerous for you. But—”

  “But?”

  “I don’t want you to go.”

  He kissed her again, gazing into her eyes. “Do you have to see him today?”

  Raven didn’t need the question clarified. “This afternoon—and tonight.”

  “Then I can stay for a while.”

  She hesitated. “Training and experience tell me you shouldn’t. It would be taking a chance, a big chance. What Hagen would call an unnecessary risk. But I’ve given Leon and the security people the impression that I stay up late and sleep late; no one ever disturbs me until afternoon.”

  Josh just barely could hear the music from her “jamming” tape player in the living room, and nodded in that direction. “Won’t anyone wonder about that? It’s been playing all night.”

  Raven shook her head. “No, I often play it all night. On the theory that if you let people get used to something, they don’t pay any attention at all to it after a while.”

  He brushed the dark, heavy hair away from her face and looked at her steadily, the love he felt very nearly overwhelming him. “I don’t want to do anything to put you or me in greater danger, but I don’t want to leave you.”

  She didn’t hesitate this time. “Stay.”

  They couldn’t completely shut out the world, but they did manage to forget it. For a while. The warm, wet intimacy of a shared shower sent them back to bed, and the sun was well up when they made it to the kitchen for a breakfast of sorts. Neither dressed, because each glance caught and held, and getting rid of clothing was a waste of precious time.

  Josh was conscious of that passing time, aware of the uncertain footing beneath them. Reluctant to press her for a commitment, he fought the instincts urging him to grab her and hold on tight. It was a next-to-impossible task, because Raven was so instantly and utterly responsive … yet her eyes remained enigmatic.

  He was not a man who had felt uncertain of himself ever before in his life, but during that morning he learned the terrors of uncertainty. She had said that she loved him, and Josh believed her. She loved him, and yet their future was very much in doubt in spite of it. And not only because of her background but his own, he realized.

  “Does who I am bother you?” he asked late that morning. Reluctantly, he was dressing to go, and Raven was curled up in the bed watching him.

  She blinked, then smiled. “I’m not sure. It scares me a little, I think.”

  Josh sat down on the edge of the bed and frowned. “Why?”

  “Because you’re so visible.” She spoke slowly
, obviously searching herself. “And I’ve never been visible. That file on you is incredible; everything you do is news. You and the people you know are world movers.”

  “I’m just a man, Raven. Don’t ever forget that. And I don’t plan to be so visible in the future. I’ve had that. I have four houses—but none of them is home. I want a real home now. With you.” His hand reached out and lay warmly over the sheet covering her flat stomach. “Children.”

  “I can’t think past today,” she whispered, trying not to imagine what it would be like to carry their child, trying not to let the magic of such a vision seduce her.

  After a moment, Josh nodded. He leaned down to kiss her gently, but with an edge of desperation he wasn’t able to hide. And he could barely get out the words that were more plea than command: “Just promise me—”

  “I won’t leave.” Her voice was steady. “I won’t run away from this.” She pushed a lock of black hair off his forehead.

  He couldn’t ask for more, no matter how much he wanted to.

  Raven was to meet Leon at his office building, and her alter ego was firmly in place when she ordered a security man at the door to park her Mercedes in the underground garage. She was cool and composed as she went up in the elevator. Still, despite her training and experience, the fact that her life had been changed the night before had left its mark.

  For five years, she had lived in a world where there was, as Josh had observed, nothing certain. Every stranger met was a potential enemy, and it had been only rare moments, such as her meeting with him, when she had ignored the danger and suspicions that shadowed her life. She had all but forgotten how to open up to another human being, share herself.

  But last night had changed her. Like a steeplechase jockey who made plans only “after the last race,” she couldn’t look ahead until danger was past. Was that sheer superstition or just her innate realism?

  But she loved Josh, loved him with a depth and certainty she hadn’t thought possible, and in a soft and secure corner of her mind she allowed herself to dream.

  On the surface, however, Raven Anderson was an ice maiden, and it was this woman who lifted a cool brow at Theodore when she found him alone in Leon’s office.

  “Miss Howard wasn’t at her desk,” she said, referring to Leon’s excellent secretary. “Where’s Leon?”

  Spaniel eyes blinked behind his thick glasses as Theodore came forward to meet her with a blend of anxiety and entreaty. “They needed him downstairs, Miss Anderson; he asked me to make sure you were comfortable until he returned.”

  Indifferently, she said, “I’ll be fine, Theodore. You needn’t wait.”

  He came a step closer and licked his lips nervously. “You’re a beautiful woman, Miss, er, Raven.”

  “Thank you.” Her voice was cold now, and she fought the urge to back away when he came closer still. She didn’t like the man; his anxious mannerisms made her somehow nervous, and the memory of his cold hands touching her once before had stayed with her a long time.

  “I could fix you a drink,” he offered, his eyes focusing on her breasts.

  “No.”

  He glanced toward the closed door. “Leon’ll be a while. Why don’t we get comfortable on the couch?”

  “You could learn a lot from Leon, Theodore.” She stared coldly at him, her distaste obvious. “He never makes clumsy passes.”

  Theodore’s pale face flushed. “Don’t be so high and mighty,” he said, his voice abruptly derisive. “I know what you are, Miss Anderson. You’re worse than a whore. You buy and sell decent girls and make them into whores.”

  Deep inside her in a cold place, Raven marked yet another score to be settled with him. But her voice remained coolly indifferent, and her expression was faintly amused. “The pot sneering at the kettle, don’t you think? You work for Leon, and that makes you a pimp.”

  Theodore caught her suddenly around her waist. His face was more deeply flushed and his eyes held an avid expression. “Pimps try out their girls,” he said hoarsely. But a ringing slap sent him staggering back with a curse and one hand held to his cheek.

  “I think not. I’m not one of your girls. I also don’t belong to Leon, luckily for you. Get out of here.”

  “You’ll regret that,” he said shakily.

  Bored, Raven turned toward the bar and fixed herself a drink. She didn’t change expression even when the door slammed behind Theodore. Wandering to the window with her glass, she stood gazing out. Still performing. But this time, it was for the eye of a hidden camera. It was there, she knew, recording everyone who visited Leon’s office.

  A few moments later he came in, and she had to wonder coldly if she had just passed another test. Impossible to tell, of course, from Leon’s bland, smiling face.

  “Good afternoon, my dear. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

  “No problem.” She watched him put away some papers in his desk, just barely catching the slight flick of his fingers on the underside of the desk. Her mind worked instantly, rapidly. Had he turned off a hidden tape recorder? The camera?

  In a gentle tone, Leon said, “Unwise, my dear, to provoke Theodore.”

  Unmoved, she said, “Did you expect me to tumble onto the couch for him, Leon? Was I supposed to do so because he works for you and you expect me to keep the help happy?”

  “Did I ask you to?”

  “You tell me.”

  As always his gray eyes were unreadable. “No, my dear, I did not ask you. But Theodore is an unstable personality. Surely you’ve noticed? And you’re a survivor. It might perhaps have been wiser if you had … sunk your scruples?”

  “Not that far.” She turned away from the window to place her empty glass on the bar. Boldly, she forced the issue. “Enjoyable as your company is, Leon, I came here to fulfill a commission. Not to be pawed by a rabbity office boy. My clients are becoming impatient.”

  “You spoke to them?”

  Raven didn’t fall into the trap. “No. But I have a deadline, and I know my clients.”

  Leon’s fingers flickered again beneath the desk, and that bothered Raven, for some reason. Especially when he continued on the subject she had opened.

  “I believe you are well versed in your clients’ … tastes?”

  “I know what they want.”

  “Excellent. It will take a day or so to make the arrangements.”

  “No blind sales, Leon.” She looked at him coolly. “I expect to examine the merchandise.”

  “Of course.” He locked his desk, then came forward to lead her toward the door. “I will arrange it. And, by the way, my dear, I’ve never called you a whore. Never again call me a pimp.”

  Raven’s mask held—just. There had been a steely warning in his gentle tone. “My apologies, Leon,” she said.

  Josh lit a cigarette and spoke into the phone. “And then?”

  “And then they went to a restaurant,” Lucas reported briefly. “Just the two of them, boss. I can see both entrances from here; they’re still inside.”

  “All right. Let me know when they start back to the penthouse.”

  Lucas hesitated. “Boss … they’ll never know they’re being followed, but do you think this is smart? We were told to lay off.”

  “I don’t trust Hagen’s so-called security measures,” Josh said flatly. “She’s in danger every moment she’s with Travers, and I want them watched.”

  “You sign the checks.” Lucas sighed. “And I haven’t seen a sign of surveillance other than mine.”

  “That’s good enough for me.”

  Doubtful, Lucas said, “Well, hell, Josh, these guys are supposed to be pros; they could be all around me and I’d never see them.”

  “You’d see them.” In spite of worry, Josh smiled a little. “Is this the ex-cop the feds have been trying to entice away from me for years? The cop who was undercover for ten months to break a drug ring?”

  “Bygone days,” Lucas said. “I’m getting old and rusty.”

  “You’re a year y
ounger than I am,” Josh retorted mildly.

  “Well, you looked a mite weary this afternoon.”

  “Never mind.”

  Laughing, Lucas said, “I’ll check in when anything changes.” He hung up.

  Rafferty shoved a paper across the desk to Josh. “Sign this.”

  Obediently, Josh signed.

  Glancing over at Zach, who was seated nearby, Rafferty said, “I could steal him blind; he never reads anything.”

  “You read it, didn’t you?” Josh asked absently. Sighing, Rafferty filed the signed paper in his briefcase. “Uh-huh.”

  Josh smiled suddenly. “Why do you think I pay you such an exorbitant salary? So I won’t have to read. What was that, anyway?”

  “You just gave away money,” Rafferty told him politely.

  “To who? Whom.”

  “Serena’s latest orphanage.”

  Josh eyed his attorney thoughtfully. “If I remember correctly, you said the last time she wanted an endowment fund set up that you were proof against Rena’s wiles.”

  Rafferty examined his fingernails. “Yes. Well.” Looking up to meet amused eyes, he said accusingly, “Even if I managed not to succumb, you would. I just thought I’d save time and draw up the damned papers.”

  Zach, who had let most of the conversation pass unheard, looked up then from the computer printout he was studying. “Did you know Travers had a wife?”

  Josh looked over at his security chief. “Had. She died years ago, didn’t she?”

  “Yeah.” Zach frowned. “Three years ago. His yacht went down, and they never found her body. Says here, he was in Geneva at the time. Police put the blame on a boiler explosion.”

  “It happens,” Rafferty noted. “Not that I’d know about yachts, of course. My clutch-fisted employer—”

  “Is going to dock your salary for that remark,” Josh told him. Then he sighed and his mind, never far from thoughts of Raven, returned completely to her. There was so much in this situation he couldn’t hope to control, and the danger she faced scared him half to death. “I hope to high heaven she’s all right.”