Shackled (16 page)

“You’re a sensible girl,” Judge Coldwell huffed. “Now that brother of yours, on the other hand, he was something else again. Your father grieved many years over his betrayal.”

Constance set her glass down and shook her head. She tried not to let her glee show.
Finally, an opening
. “I never did understand what got into Tim. I warned him that woman was no good for him. I do wish he’d listened.” Though it was hard, she managed to bring a sheen of tears to her eyes. She let the judge see them then ducked her head and lowered her voice. “I believe with my whole heart he’d be alive today if he’d never married Bethany Williams.”

“That wife of his drive him to his grave, did she?” The old man barked his laughter. “Some women can nag a man into the next century.”

She hesitated just long enough to have the old man raise one eyebrow. “No, I’m sure you’re right. The other…it’s all just my imagination. It has to be.”

“You think something was off, with the way your brother died? I heard he keeled over with a massive heart attack.” The judge frowned. “Was rather sudden, wasn’t it?”

“Yes! It does say ‘cardiac arrest’ on his death certificate.” Constance cast her eyes down and counted to five. When she looked up at Coldwell, she knew he’d see doubt, perhaps a little fear in her eyes.

“Something’s bothering you about Tim’s death. I know his passing hastened your father’s end, despite their estrangement.” He seemed to ponder for a moment. Then he said, “Timothy, God rest him, would want me to ask, so I will. What’s troubling you, Constance?”

“It’s probably nothing.” She looked off to one side, giving the impression of a woman truly torn between confiding her suspicions and keeping them to herself.

“What’s probably nothing? Enough of this prevarication. You can confide in me, my dear. I’ll keep your confidence.”

Constance sighed. “Well, it’s just that ever since father’s diagnosis, Tim had been so vigilant about getting regular medical exams, watching what he ate, getting exercise.” All a lie, Constance knew, but it sure sounded good. “I had lunch with him not a week before he died. He’d just had his annual physical, which included an ECG and a stress test. He was feeling on top of the world because the doctor had given him a clean bill of health.”

“Doctors don’t always catch everything, Constance,” Judge Coldwell said. His tone came out gruff, as if he wasn’t used to offering comfort. He gave her hand an awkward pat. “I didn’t know you and Tim had gotten close. Of course, with your father ill, I can understand that you would naturally turn to your brother for comfort and guidance.”

Not fucking likely
. Constance never imagined that it would be so hard to get the old bastard to clue in to what she was trying to say. “A couple of times when I dropped in to see Tim, Bethany had some books lying about. I asked Tim about them, and he just said she was taking some sort of general interest courses at the college.” Constance let her gaze meet Coldwell’s, hoped the damn man could see her confusion. “I just couldn’t understand what sort of general interest course could require reading a book about exotic poisons.”

That
got the old geezer’s attention. He sat up, leaned forward. “You think she poisoned your brother?”

“I couldn’t see how she could have, but then I was reading that some poisons can simulate heart attacks, and I wondered.” She wet her lips and acted nervous. “Tim was glad Beth was taking some courses. He said she’d been acting very strange lately.”

“If you suspect foul play, you need to contact the authorities.” Coldwell kept his voice down, but there was no mistaking the authority in his tone, or the excitement in his eyes.

“I’ve tried, but no one’s listening to me. And anyway, at this point no trace of the stuff would even be left in the body.”

“Good Lord! So this is what you’ve been so concerned about!” Judge Coldwell sat back. He looked like a man who’d just taken a punch to the solar plexus. Then he frowned and leaned forward. “Do you think she’s a danger to someone else? Herself? My God, the children?”

Perfect
.

“I’ve been concerned about that very thing since Tim died. I’ve felt so helpless, because what could I do? The police won’t listen. There’s no reason for any court to grant me the right to exhume his body. But like I said, that would be a waste of time, because if she used the poison I think she did, there would be no trace of it in his bones. Then a couple of weeks ago, I had an inspiration…”

Constance drew it out, not just to seem more convincing, but because, frankly, she was getting a kick out of this role she’d chosen to play.

“What inspiration, Constance?”

“It would be nearly impossible to prove to the police that she’d done anything illegal. Especially if she used a muscle relaxant such as
succinylcholine.
But…but if I could get a doctor to testify that
she
was unwell, mentally, then maybe we could have her taken to a place where she wouldn’t be a danger, either to herself or anyone else. Where she could be treated and cared for.”

Judge Coldwell’s eyes positively sparkled. Constance had always suspected the man was a sneaky old bastard at heart. His obvious excitement at doing something underhanded confirmed that.

“If you can find a doctor—two I believe is the legal standard in this state—who would give depositions to that effect, I believe I can help you with the legal end of things. I could appoint you as her legal guardian.” Coldwell nodded.

“I would be so relieved.” Constance had to work at keeping her absolute delight concealed. The truth was she
would
be relieved—the moment she laid her hands on Bethany’s fortune.

* * * *

Bethany opened her eyes. Morning sun streamed into the room and she blinked. Yawning, she turned her head toward Jonathan.

The man is even gorgeous when he’s sleeping
. He didn’t even wake up with bed-head, which as far as she was concerned was totally unfair. Of course, she needed to remember that he was fifteen years younger than she. Did she have bed-head first thing in the morning when she’d been thirty-three?

Hell, I can’t completely remember back that far
.

“You’re thinking very loudly this morning, my Beth.”

Jonathan opened his eyes, meeting her gaze with blue eyes that sparkled with amusement. He turned onto his side to face her, propping his head up with his left hand.

She turned onto her right side so they lay face to face. The heat from his body seeped into her, warming her in ways that still, after a few days, astounded her.

“I wasn’t aware you were psychic,” she said. “I guess I’d better guard my thoughts.”

“Won’t work,” Jonathan said. He leaned forward and placed a quick kiss on her lips. “I’ll be able to read them anyway.”

“Is that so?” She couldn’t contain her smile. Playful banter with a lover was a new experience for her and something she really liked. Jonathan had a quick wit, and it pleased her enormously that she could keep up with him.

More and more, the Jonathan she used to know seemed to be fading into the ether of the past. This man bore little resemblance to whom and what he’d been when they first met.

He’d become more everything. More powerful, more self-assured, and a lot more fun.

“That is so.”

“So the mystique will be gone?” She tried for a mournful tone but knew she failed.

“Mystique is overrated.”

“I see. So what am I thinking, now?”

Jonathan narrowed his gaze then closed his eyes for just a moment. When he opened them, he gave her a wide-eyed, surprised look. “You want me to fuck you!”

Bethany couldn’t help it. She laughed. “You’re good.”

“Shouldn’t you say that
after
I fuck you?”

Bethany loved the teasing light in his eyes. “After. Before. Always.”

His smile changed, became softer.
“Sweetheart.”

He kissed her then, his lips and tongue reverent, worshipful. His taste teased her, made her body shiver and weep, preparing itself for him. The texture of him under her hands, hot flesh and hard muscle, made her hunger for more of him, for all of him.

He kept her so off balance, this time becoming the tender lover, the gentle man who would woo and sample, sip and lick, and drive her slowly out of her mind. His mouth took hers again and again, his tongue dominating hers as he drank, as he set her on fire and made her burn. Wrapping around him, arms and legs, she rubbed her flesh against his, stroking, enticing. His cock hardened, his heat rose, and the reality of him, just there, with her, nearly pushed her over the edge of bliss.

“Please.” She needed to feel that magnificent cock sliding into her, stretching her. She needed to visit that state of ecstasy that, in all her life, only this man had shown her. Elation filled her as he reached for a condom, put it on.
“Oh, please.”

“Not yet, sweetheart. Take more.” Jonathan’s voice caressed her as silkily as his hands. His lips left hers to taste and sip her throat, her breasts. She arched her back to offer him everything, her body now on fire, this addiction so acute she had to have more, and still more.

He suckled her breasts, lapped at the valley between them, then moistened her belly with his kisses. Lower and lower he moved, the caress of his lips and tongue so drugging and deliberate she anticipated that moment when he’d stroke his tongue over her slit, and she began to shiver, craving it.

“You taste so good.” He whispered the words against her cunt. Bethany mewed and stretched, the moist vibration of his masculine chuckle tickling her clit, arousing it so that the tiny bud reached for him.

He placed his mouth on her, a full, openmouthed, carnal kiss that triggered her orgasm.

“Yes!” Her body bowed up, her fingers grasped bedding, clutching, twisting as she came in a flood of rapture sharp and sweet. She felt his tongue dip into her, past her labia, into her sheath, then work in and out, fucking her as the climax held her tight, held her fast.

When the bliss began to ebb, Jonathan rose above her and slid his cock deep into her pussy.

“Hold on to me.”

“Kiss me.” She needed to taste their combined flavor, to be so completely as one with him that there could be no difference between them.

He kissed her even as he thrust his cock into her again and again. She felt the moment he went rigid, felt the spasms of his cock inside her.

She felt his semen flood the condom within her and knew one wild moment of desire, of longing to feel his seed flood her womb.

Jonathan’s head nestled against her neck as he held his weight off her, though she would have received it gladly and reveled in the pressing of her body into the mattress.

“Better and better,” he said.

“Mmm.” It was the best she could manage. Her heart still pounded in her chest, and tiny little aftershocks vibrated through her.

“Did I fuck you speechless?”

Oh, he was so full of masculine smug. She smiled, because she supposed he’d earned it. So she said, “Mmm,” again and sighed.

“How about coffee and then a shower?”

“Sounds good.” She’d worked late into the night, but then so had Jonathan. He’d finally come and gotten her sometime around two. She never stayed up that late, but she’d had fun.

“I’ll put the coffee on. Come join me in the kitchen when you get your energy back.”

Bethany could only sigh as Jonathan bounded out of bed—there really was no other word for the way he got up—and headed to his closet. He pulled two robes out, both white and soft looking. One he draped on the end of the bed for her, the other he shrugged on.

Then he was gone, and Bethany was left to the peace of the room, the scent of their mixed sweat and lovemaking and the dawning realization that morning sex had somehow energized her, too.

It had also given her an appetite. She tossed back the sheet and got out of bed. The white velour robe felt as soft as it looked, and Bethany belted the garment then padded, barefoot, toward the kitchen. Maybe after breakfast she could coax Jonathan into the shower. She’d argue that, as socially conscious citizens, it was their duty to conserve water.

She thought that maybe Jonathan would be pleased if she asked for breakfast. At the bottom of the stairs, she directed her steps toward the front door. Peering out the glass, she let her eyes take in the blue sky, dotted with clouds, and the bright sunshine that made this September morn look more like a mid-summer day. Her glance slid to the driveway. Bethany frowned. She couldn’t see her car.