Kay David - Obsession

Emma stirred as he put the bug back together and dropped it into her purse. When she finally opened her eyes, he was sitting in the chair opposite the bed, looking at her.

“You’re awake already,” she said. “Don’t you ever sleep?”

He shook his head. “Not when there’s a beautiful woman nearby.”

In the subtle light of early morning, she smiled softly, sensually. “If that’s how you feel, then what are you doing on the other side of the room?”

He answered her by putting the rest of his thoughts on hold, and crossing the space between them.

THE COBBLESTONE STREETS were washed and clean. Raul had left the hotel early and found a mechanic, and now Emma, heading for the newly repaired Range Rover, bag in hand, listened as the peal of the cathedral bells filled the square. The air felt different than it had yesterday, sharper and fresher, but glancing at Raul, Emma realized she was mistaken; it wasn’t the air that was different. It was her.

For the first time in a very long time, she felt a ray of hope. It was silly, really. Not a single thing had actually changed, but somehow she thought it might. Kelman’s offer was behind her, and despite Raul’s warning, she believed that problem was solved. She would just work harder…then work some more. The money she needed would come somehow.

They visited the orphanage to deliver the presents they’d bought the afternoon before, and soon they were on the road back to Santa Cruz. The pavement, crumbling and old, was washed out in places, but generally passable, and the hours flew by.

After a while, Raul glanced at Emma from across the truck. “Will you ever go back to New Orleans and live?”

The passing jungle was a blur of green as she turned to meet his eyes. “Absolutely,” she answered. “My mom’s gone, but it’s home. I miss it a lot.”

“And after that?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t really given it any thought. Everything I think about stops at the point I get my kids back.”

“What if you lose the appeal?”

“Losing is not an option.”

He shook his head. “Losing is always an option, Emma. You need to think about that, you know.”

She refused even to consider the possibility. “Did you handle these kinds of cases when you were an attorney?”

“I did it all.” His hands gripped the steering wheel as he slowed to go around a huge hole in the road.

When he said nothing else, she realized belatedly that this was how he must have felt when she’d avoided all his questions. She forced away the queries flooding her mind. He was someone to be with for the moment, she told herself. Someone she could share her pain with, but not her life.

Someone she could be with…but not love.

He interrupted her thoughts with a question about Bolivia. She shook her head in exasperation.

“It’s a very poor country,” she said. “They’ll never become a more powerful force until they get rid of their corruption.”

“Is it bad?”

“The worst,” she answered. “Everything is tainted, every government office, every business transaction, everything. What do you think of the country so far?”

“I’ve lived a lot of places,” he answered, his voice noncommittal. “But I think I’ll stay here for a while. It’s not that bad a place, and there’s no good reason for me to go back to the States.”

His answer struck her hard, primarily because it reinforced her earlier thoughts. There could never be anything permanent between the two of them-even if she wanted it; she wouldn’t be overseas and away from home for a moment longer than she had to, and he was one of those men she often saw at the bank. Men with money who were simply passing through. She thought of them as permanent expatriates. They had no anchors and there was nothing to hold them down-no families, no friends, no necessary jobs-and so they wandered, looking for something but not knowing what. It made her sad to think of Raul in those terms, because he wasn’t truly that type of man. Remembering his earlier actions at the orphanage, she knew he should have a wife and children; fatherhood would suit him well.

It was late by the time they pulled up in front of Emma’s home, darkness edging into the yard and the house itself. Raul parked the truck, then walked to Emma’s side of the vehicle. Opening her door, he helped her out. As soon as they stepped into the entryway, she turned and began to say goodbye.

He shook his head. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” he said, his voice low and liquid. “I can’t leave just like that.”

She looked up at him, desire twisting deep inside her. Let him in or keep him out? The question seemed a simple one, but there were too many layers surrounding it to count.

He read her hesitation. “If you don’t want me to stay, I won’t. I’ll leave right now.”

“I don’t know what I want,” she confessed.

“You probably find that hard to believe after last night, but it’s the truth.”

He lifted his hands and cradled her face, his thumb drawing a line around her mouth. Then he lowered his head to hers, his mouth suddenly pressing against her own, his tongue insistent. The kiss was like all his others-hot and demanding-and she was breathless when he finally pulled back. Todd had never left her reeling like this, nor had any other man, she thought with dazed amazement. But she could get used to it.

“It’s your choice.” His voice was hoarse and the sound of it rasped over her, leaving her trembling, just like his touch. “I’ll leave. You decide.”

Her heart screamed leave, but her body cried stay.

She hesitated a moment longer, then she lifted her arms and wrapped them around his neck. He closed the door behind him with a kick.

SHORTLY AFTER ONE in the morning, Emma walked Raul downstairs and let him out the front door. The street was silent and dark, a few clouds scudding across the moon, the hibiscus blooms rippling in the breeze. The only sound was her neighbor’s birds. In addition to his monkey, the man had an aviary in his garden filled with wild macaws and yellow-and-green parrots. The creatures’ cries, sharp and savage, lent a sense of unreality to the moment. Raul paused at the gate and kissed her, his lips so addictive she found it hard to let him go. He seemed to feel the same way, and only after a while could he finally tear himself away.

“I have to take care of some business in the morning,” he said, his hand on her neck. “Can I call you at the office?”

“I’d like that,” she answered. “I’ll be there.”

He nodded, kissed her again, then climbed into the truck. She watched him drive down the street. She hadn’t really wanted him to leave, but she needed to be alone after all their time together. She had to sort out her feelings, and she couldn’t do that with him in her bed.

Trudging back up the stairs a few minutes later, Emma went into her bathroom and began to draw water for a bath. The steam from the tub had just reached the mirror when she heard a noise downstairs. She twisted the taps off at once, and the sound repeated itself. It was louder this time, and more insistent. Finally she understood; someone was knocking on the front door. Pounding on it, in fact, as if he wanted to break it down.

She grabbed her robe from the hook on the door and wrapped it around her, her racing heart mimicking the noise downstairs. Had Raul forgotten something? If he had, how had he gotten past the gate? And she doubted he would make the kind of racket that was coming up from the foyer now, but she bounded down the stairs just the same, her bare feet slapping across the wooden floor as she ran. The knocking didn’t cease until she threw open the door.

Six policemen stood on her front porch. Dressed in green fatigues, they each carried an automatic gun and wore belligerent frowns. Behind them, the iron gate swung crazily, the top hinge completely broken off.

Emma’s mouth dropped open. “What in the world-”

Interrupting her, the man in front spoke her name, his gaze insolent as it took in her robe. He wore extra gold braid across his shoulders and a cap with an insignia on it. He was blue-chinned and rough-looking. Threatening.

“Señorita Toussaint? Emma Toussaint?”

“Y-yes?” With a shaking hand, she pulled together the thick lapels of her housecoat. “What is it?” she asked. “What’s wrong?”

He pushed the door back with one hand and stepped inside, forcing her backward. “We’re here to search your home,” he announced. “We’ve been told you have drugs.”

EMMA STARED at him in shock, unable to speak. When she finally found her voice, she wished she hadn’t. But it was too late; she couldn’t take back her astonished reply.

“Drugs? Here? Are you insane?”

His reaction wasn’t the one she expected. He smiled. “No, señorita, no estoy loco. But you may be by the time we finish.”

The men behind him snickered at his wit, but Emma went silent with astonishment. He stalked arrogantly past her, then lifted his hand and waved it toward her living room, tilting his head to the man directly behind him. “You go in there.” Pointing in other directions, he told the rest of them to scatter, as well.

“Stop!” Terrified and shaking, Emma made her voice a strident screech. She had to act angry; to show her fear to these men could be a fatal flaw.

“You can’t do this! You can’t come in here and start searching like this.”

Unbelievably, no one paid her any attention. She could have been speaking Farsi for all the notice her words garnered. As if she didn’t exist, the policeman did as he was instructed and stomped over Emma’s silk rug to disappear into the darkness of the front room. Immediately something shattered.

Emma whirled and glowered at the man who’d stayed behind, the one in charge. “What do you think you’re doing? This is crazy! Who told you there were drugs here?”