The Virgin Mistress (12 page)

“
I'll
talk to him,” she said. “I should have done it before now. I didn't want to interfere, but he's spiralling out of control. He needs some help.”

Joe didn't agree, but Rebecca had to give him credit. He respected her decision. “All right, if that's what you want, we'll do this your way. Personally, I think the only kind of help he needs is a good swift kick where it'll do the most good, but if you think talking to him will do the trick, you won't get any argument from me. If that doesn't work, though, I want to know about it.”

Rebecca hoped that wouldn't be necessary. Because it wasn't her nature to turn her back on someone in trouble, especially a friend. She may have already given him more
chances than any reasonable person would have, but she had to try one more time.

“You will,” she promised, hugging him. “Thanks.”

 

Rebecca knew she was doing the right thing, but facing Richard the next day was one of the hardest things she'd ever done. She put it off as long as she could, deciding it was best to approach him after school, after all of the students and most of the teachers were gone for the day. Considering his mood over the last few weeks, she wasn't sure how he was going to react and she didn't mind admitting that she was nervous. But this discussion had been put off for too long.

So taking her courage in hand, she approached his office and saw through the window of his closed door that he was at his desk. Knocking softly on the glass, she opened the door a crack and poked her head inside. “Are you busy?” she asked with a forced smile. “I was hoping we could talk.”

For a moment, she thought he was going to send her packing. He gave her a hard look that wasn't the least receptive, but she kept her smile in place and refused to take the hint that he really didn't want company. Left with little choice, he rose from his desk to open the door further for her.

“Come in,” he said shortly. “I was just finishing up some paperwork. What can I do for you?”

Her stomach tied in knots, she didn't know where to begin. How did you tell a friend that he was acting like a jackass when he had the power to fire you? Nervously stepping farther into his office, she clasped her hands together in front of her as she turned to face him. “I don't know how to say this except to blurt it out. I know people lose friends sometimes when there's a divorce, and I just
want you to know that that's not going to happen to us. I still consider you a very good friend, and lately, I've been really concerned about you. These last few weeks have been really hard for you, and I just wanted you to know that I'm here for you.”

She would have said the same thing to any other friend in trouble and gladly shed a tear or two with them in sympathy. But Richard never gave her a chance to cry for him. Before she could begin to guess his intentions, he grabbed her.

“Richard! What are you doing? Let me go!”

Snatching her close, he groaned when he yanked her flush against him. “Don't be ridiculous. Don't you know how long I've wanted you? I never thought you might feel the same way.”

Horrified, she pushed against the hard wall of his chest. “I don't! Let go! You misunderstood.”

He just laughed. “Don't play coy. I know when a woman wants me. You've wanted this as long as I have.” And with no more warning than that, he dragged her up on her toes and kissed her fiercely.

Whimpering, the dark clouds of her own personal nightmare pressing in on her, she tried to fight free, but he was as strong as a bull. Panicking, she jerked her mouth free of his and tried to reason with him. “It isn't me you want,” she panted. “It's Sylvia. She's the one you love. Ever since she left, you've been growling and snapping at me—”

“Because I wanted you,” he rasped against her neck, “and I was afraid someone would notice and turn me in to the school board for playing favorites. But no one's here now. We can do what we want.”

“No!”

Ignoring her, he buried his hands in her hair and cov
ered her mouth with his in a hot, ruthless kiss that went on and on and on. Trapped, repulsed, unable to do anything but shrink in on herself, Rebecca couldn't have said who held her or where she was. The past merged with the present, the walls of Richard's office shifted, then changed—first, into those of the homeless shelter where she'd nearly been raped, then into the flimsy walls of her mother's rundown apartment when she was fourteen. One attacker blended into another, rough hands pulled at her, hurting her, sickening her. And all she could think of was that she had to get away.

Later, she didn't remember fighting. The monster who held her was bigger than her, stronger, but fear gave her power. Working her arms free, she struck out wildly, pummelling his head and shoulders. “No!” she cried. “I won't let you do this to me again! No!”

Her fist connected with his jaw, snapping him out of the lust that held him in its viselike grip. Abruptly jerked back to awareness, he pulled back. Then he saw her face.

He'd never seen such a look of terror on a woman's face in his life. Her pupils dilated with fear and her face as white as a ghost's, she hammered at him again and again with clenched fists, but it was the total lack of recognition in her eyes that scared him the most. She didn't even know who he was.

“Rebecca?”

“You won't do this to me again!” she said fiercely. “I won't let you! Do you hear me?
I won't let you!
”

Worried, he tried to catch her fists before she could hit him again. “Rebecca, it's me…Richard. It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you. Calm down.”

Caught up in whatever nightmare gripped her, she didn't hear him. When his hands nearly closed around her wrists to subdue her, she cried out in rage and something
in her just seemed to snap. With a strength that came from sheer terror, she shoved him with all her might and sent him flying backward into his desk. Off-balance, he bounced off it and hit the floor hard. A split second later, Rebecca whirled and ran out of the office like the devil himself was after her.

Swearing, Richard scrambled to his feet and took off after her, but it was too late. He ran outside just in time to see the taillights of her Toyota Camry disappear around the corner.

 

Sitting at the small table in his hotel room, Austin stared down at the map he'd made of where the guests were standing during the shooting. He'd lost count of the number of times he'd gone over the damn thing trying to figure out who the shooter was, and every time he thought he was close to cracking the case, he hit a brick wall. The irritating thing was he knew he had the bastard somewhere on that map. He was so close, Austin could smell him. Who the devil was he, dammit?! And why did he keep missing him?

He'd spent days trying to figure out the answer to that. He'd even gone over his notes with the detectives handling the case, and they were just as lost as he was, and still focusing on the family. Maybe it was time to get a third opinion. Making a snap decision, he folded up the map and shoved it into the briefcase where he kept his notes. Five seconds later, he grabbed his keys and headed for Rebecca's.

She was home—her car was parked in the parking space directly in front of her apartment—but when he rang the doorbell, there was no answer. Surprised, he waited a few minutes, then knocked firmly on the door. Still, there was no answer.

His common sense told him she wasn't home. She'd either gone for a walk or gone somewhere with a friend in their car. He'd have to catch her another time. But even as he turned away and headed for his rental car, something told him not to leave. Not yet.

Frowning, he returned to her front door, and this time he didn't just knock. He banged. “Rebecca? It's me. Austin. Are you in there?”

When silence was his only answer, he felt like an idiot. “Of course she's not there, fool,” he muttered. “She's not home.” Then he heard the sound of her dead bolt lock sliding free, and he started to grin. “I had a feeling you were home—”

Whatever he was going to say next died unspoken on his tongue at the sight of her. There wasn't a drop of color in her face. Pale as parchment, she looked like she would blow away in the slightest breeze.

It wasn't that, however, that had him reaching for her in concern. It was the stark terror in her eyes. “Honey, my God, what is it? What's wrong?”

She never gave him the chance to touch her. Lightning quick, she pulled back, nearly knocking over the small table in her entrance hall in an effort to get away. It was only when she saw the shock on his face that she was horrified by her own reaction. Stricken, she burst into tears. “Oh, God!”

He wanted to hold her then more than he'd ever wanted anything in his life, but he didn't dare. Afraid she would shatter if he so much as moved wrong, he cautiously stepped inside and shut the door behind him. “Let's go in the kitchen and I'll fix you something to drink,” he said quietly. “How about some hot tea with lemon? My mother swears a good cup of tea can make the worst day look brighter.”

Not giving her a chance to argue, he guided her into the kitchen without ever touching her, then began to search her cabinets for tea bags. Touched by his caring, Rebecca only cried harder when he finally set a steaming cup of tea in front of her at the kitchen table. “Oh, Austin,” she sobbed.

If she could have had anything in the world at that moment, she would have stepped into his arms and cried her eyes out on his shoulder. Just this once, she needed to be normal, needed to know the security of a good man's arms around her and what it felt like to be truly safe from harm. But she couldn't have that, and it broke her heart.

Tears streaming from her eyes, all she could do was reach across the table, cover his hand with hers, and hang on for dear life. It wasn't enough, but it was better than nothing. “Thank you,” she sniffled. “I—I'm sorry about what happened at the d-door.”

“Don't try to talk just yet,” he soothed. “And don't give a second thought about me. I'm just fine. You're the one I'm worried about. Drink your tea. Then you can tell me what happened.”

She didn't want to go back to that scene, didn't want to even think about how Richard had forced his tongue down her throat and put his hands all over her. But after years of therapy, she knew if she didn't discuss it and get it out of her system now, it would eat at her until it eventually destroyed all the progress she had made. And she couldn't let that happen.

So she drank her tea, first one cup, than another, and prayed it would warm the coldness that seemed to come from her very soul. It didn't.

How long she sat there without saying a word, she couldn't have said. Austin silently rose to refill her teacup, then took his seat across from her, patiently waiting. She
could have loved him for that, but when she finally began to speak, she couldn't even look at him.

“I stopped by Richard's office after school,” she said in a faint whisper that he had to strain to hear. “You know how critical he's been of me lately. I thought it was time we talked about it.”

From the corner of her eye, she saw Austin frown and said, “I tried avoiding him, but it wasn't working. He's been awful. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about it, but I didn't want to drag you into my problems. You've got your hands full with the investigation and everything, and I thought I could take care of the situation myself.”

“You don't have to apologize,” he said gruffly. “You're not under any obligation to tell me everything that goes on in your life.”

“But things might have been different if I
had
told you. You might have seen…might have realized—”

When she broke off abruptly, he frowned in concern. “What? What would I have seen that you didn't?”

“That he was attracted to me!”

She hadn't meant to blurt it out like that, but suddenly her hurt and anger were spilling out in a spate of hostile words. “I thought he was a friend, someone I could trust! And all the while, he just…he—”

“What?” he prompted gently. “He what?”

Tears pooled in her eyes. “He told me he wanted me.” Even now the memory still chilled her blood. “That's why he's been so mean to me—because he didn't want the other teachers to think he was playing favorites. He was afraid someone would guess and go to the school board. But this afternoon, there was no one around. The others had left, and I stupidly walked into his office and told him I cared about him.”

Austin's mouth compressed in a hard, flat line. “And
he took that as an invitation and was all over you like stink on a monkey.”

Numbly, she nodded. “If I'd known, I never would have gone near him, but it was too late for that. He grabbed me and kissed me. I don't remember much after that. I know I told him to let me go, but then everything got confused. I thought I was at the shelter—”

“Where you were almost raped?”

“It was like I was in a flashback and I couldn't find my way out,” she said tearfully. “I was so scared. I think I shoved him—I can't be sure. The next thing I knew, I was running into my apartment, and I didn't even know how I got here.”

And Richard Foster had driven her to that, Austin thought furiously. He'd terrorized her to the point that she didn't even know where she was, and all because the insensitive bastard had the hots for her and couldn't control himself. Five minutes, he promised himself. That was all he needed to teach the jackass how to treat a lady. And if it took him longer than that to learn the lesson, Austin would thrash him within an inch of his life.

But right now he couldn't do either of those things. Rebecca needed him, and nothing else mattered.

“You didn't do anything wrong, Rebecca,” he said quietly. “You know that, don't you?”