If it was true, if Reve Sorrell and Jazzy Talbot were Dinah’s daughters, then what would he do? Recently the thought had crossed his mind that they might be Dinah’s twins, but he’d dismissed the notion because he’d believed those babies had been disposed of shortly after he’d killed Dinah for the first time. Now he wasn’t so sure. What if Slim hadn’t done as he’d been told? What if everything he thought was the truth was really a lie? He had to find out, had to be sure.
This was all Dinah’s fault. If only she had loved him and not the great Farlan MacKinnon, she’d still be alive. And she would be his. They would be together now. They would be happy.
After undressing, he walked into the shower, savoring the feel of the warm water peppering his body. Why had he never paid closer attention to Jazzy Talbot? He didn’t think he’d ever actually taken a good look at her face. Oh, he’d ogled her dynamite body, just like all the other men in Cherokee County, but he’d seldom looked farther than her big boobs and her long, slim legs. Dinah had had a great figure, too, only she’d been a much smaller woman than either Jazzy or Reve Sorrell. But then, with a father the size of Farlan MacKinnon, it was no surprise that those women possessed more Amazonian proportions.
He chuckled as he soaped his body with the imported hand-milled soap he preferred. Just to think that, all these years, the closest thing to Dinah might have been right here in his own hometown, right under his nose. Had Dinah deliberately led him away from Cherokee Pointe time and again, led him away from her precious daughter?
“You didn’t want me to kill her, did you, my darling? That’s why you chose all those other women.”
His hand lingered lovingly over his penis, lathering and rinsing, then discarding the soap. He touched himself as he thought about Dinah.
If the truth about Farlan having fathered Dinah’s babies came out—and it seemed inevitable that it would—how would it affect him? Would the authorities put everyone associated with Farlan, all the members of his family, under a microscope and examine their lives? He couldn’t risk anyone poking his nose too closely into his personal business. He’d been careful, but he wasn’t perfect. There had been times when he’d made mistakes.
“Dinah, Dinah, why did you force me to kill you?”
His hand circled his erection. He sighed as he thought about that day when he’d forced himself on her. She’d tried to fight him, but she’d still been weak from having given birth to twins. Besides, she’d been a small, slender woman and easily subdued after he’d hit her a couple of times.
His mind filled with Dinah, thoughts of fucking her and killing her exciting him more and more, he came suddenly. He could feel his hands twisting the black braided ribbon around her neck, choking the life out of her. He should have known that very first time that once would never be enough. She wasn’t the kind of woman who’d stay dead. And apparently her two little redheaded mongrels were just like her—they wouldn’t stay dead either. But he could kill them, just as he’d killed Dinah. And if necessary, he could kill them over and over again.
As he washed the cum from his hand and penis, he considered his options. Both Jazzy and Reve had to die. And die at his hands, not the victims of some copycat killer with delusions of grandeur. Jazzy was in the hospital, still in a coma. Helpless. But she was surrounded by people twenty-four hours a day, he reminded himself. Wait. Wait to see if she recovers. She might never come out of that coma. There’s even a chance she could still die.
But he didn’t want her to die. Not yet. She should be his victim. Jazzy and Reve should be his prey. He would kill each of them, just as he’d killed Dinah. He’d take them away from Farlan as he’d taken their mother away from him.
After he killed them, would Jazzy and Reve come back again and again, just as Dinah did? How odd would that be? Three redheads coming back from the dead to haunt him, to entice him, to give him a pleasure almost beyond bearing.
He had to be very careful not to draw attention to himself in any way. But he had to get rid of Dinah’s daughters. Wouldn’t it be true justice if he could somehow frame Farlan MacKinnon for their murders?
Farlan had to call in several favors in order to get Griffin Powell’s home telephone number. He was determined to speak to the renowned private investigator who was probing into Reve Sorrell’s past. And he intended to speak to the man tonight. After all these years of wondering about Dinah and the babies, of telling himself that they were all three well and happy, he now suspected a horrible truth. Something terrible had happened to Dinah, and someone had taken the twins away from her and left them for dead. Apparently, everyone in Cherokee County knew part of the truth about Jazzy and Reve’s infancy. But what they didn’t know, what no one would ever suspect, was that he was their father.
He’d never forget the first time he saw Dinah. Prettiest little thing on earth: But he’d known she was a prostitute, a teenage prostitute who’d been servicing Dodd for months. Dodd had thought he was in love with the girl, had been totally in fatuated with her. But his brother-in-law had begun feeling guilty and had wanted to find a way to end their relationship. That was why he’d taken Farlan along that night, to help keep his courage bolstered so he could end things with Dinah.
With Farlan backing him, Dodd had said good-bye to Dinah that night and walked away, intending to never come back. For days afterward, Farlan hadn’t been able to get the girl out of his mind. Finally, two weeks later, he’d gone into Knoxville to see her. He’d wound up paying for her services for the entire night. After that, he’d made weekly trips to see her. Then, when he fell in love with her and asked her to get out of the business and belong to him exclusively, she admitted Dodd was still coming to see her.
“Do you love Dodd?” he’d asked.
“No, of course I don’t. I’m fond of him. He’s a kind, dear man, but I don’t love any of my customers. Screwing guys is what I do for a living.”
Farlan had grabbed her and shook her. “What about me? Is that all I am to you—just another customer?”
Tears had flooded her eyes as she shook her head. “It’s different with you. You know it is. I think I fell for you that first night. Oh, damn it, Farlan, I’m crazy in love with you.”
He’d taken her with him that very night and they’d stayed together in a motel in Sevierville. The next day, he’d called Max, fresh out of law school, and had him look for a place for her to live. He’d found her a nice apartment on Hyatt Street and took out a year’s lease, paid for in cash. After that, Farlan got away from Cherokee Pointe as often as possible to be with her. And he had assigned Max to look after all of Dinah’s financial needs.
Max. The little weasel. He’d trusted him to take care of Dinah, especially there at the end when she’d planned to take the babies and leave town.
“Farlan?” Veda called from the doorway.
He glanced at her and frowned. “Go away. Leave me alone.”
“Please, we need to talk.”
“We have nothing to talk about.”
“Yes, we do. We have to talk about Brian.” She came into the room, but hesitated several feet away from him.
“Brian is a grown man. He doesn’t need you to protect him.”
“If you’re thinking of doing something foolish—of proclaiming those women as your daughters—then I most certainly have to protect my son. Our son. And you know Brian is yours. With those twins, you never could have been certain they were yours. For all you know, they could have been Dodd’s or Max’s or God knows who else could have fathered them. Dinah was a prostitute. She slept with men for money. She used you, Farlan. She never loved you.”
He slapped Veda. Struck her across the mouth, the force of his blow cutting her lip and making it bleed. She cried out, then drew up into a fat ball, her blue eyes wide with fear and shock. He’d never laid a hand on her in all the years they’d been married. The fact that he’d struck her tonight shamed him.
“I’m sorry, Veda. I never meant to hit you. I never meant to hurt you. Not ever.”
She lifted her head and looked at him, tears swimming in her eyes. “You want Reve Sorrell and Jazzy Talbot to be Dinah’s twins, don’t you? If Dinah could walk through the door right now, you’d take her back, wouldn’t you?”
“Don’t do this to yourself,” Farlan said.
“I won’t give you up,” she told him. “And I won’t allow you to take anything away from Brian.”
“Go to bed, Veda. Leave me alone. We can talk again in the morning, after we’ve both had time to think things through more thoroughly.” When he reached out to touch her, she cringed and withdrew from him. He nodded understanding, knowing she couldn’t bear his touch now, not even a gentle one. “I’d never do anything to hurt Brian. You, of all people, must know to what lengths I’d go to protect him. I gave up the woman I loved and my two daughters so that Brian wouldn’t have to lose his mother when he was just a boy. You were so crazy back then that you’d have actually killed yourself. You weren’t thinking of our son when you tried to commit suicide, only of yourself.”
Straightening her back, squaring her shoulders and tilting her chin, Veda glared at him, then turned and walked out of his study. He sighed heavily the moment she left, thankful to be alone again. Not hesitating, he picked up the phone on his desk and dialed Griffin Powell’s private number.
“Powell residence,” a masculine voice answered on the third ring. A butler? A personal assistant?
“I’d like to speak to Griffin Powell. It’s urgent business.”
“Who may I say is calling?”
“Farlan MacKinnon, of MacKinnon Media.” “Yes, sir. Please wait just a moment.” Farlan waited. And waited. He watched the clock on his desk. One minute. Two. Three. He wasn’t accustomed to being kept waiting. Four minutes.
“Mr. MacKinnon, this is Griffin Powell. How may I help you?”
“I know that you’re investigating the background of Reve Sorrell and Jazzy Talbot, that you’re trying to locate their birth mother.”
“I would ask how you came by this information,” Powell said. “But I suppose everyone in Cherokee County knows about the twins’ search for their biological parents.”
“I may have information that can help you discover their identity.”
“Is that right? And just what information would that be?”
“There was a young woman named Dinah Collins who gave birth to twin daughters thirty years ago. I have reason to believe Dinah is Reve and Jazzy’s birth mother.”
“What reason do you have to believe this, Mr. Mac Kinnon?”
“Because 1 saw Reve Sorrell for the first time recently. And I knew Dinah Collins. Ms. Sorrell is a taller, larger woman than Dinah, but her facial features are almost identical, and her hair is the exact shade of auburn red.”
“How well did you know Dinah Collins?” Powell asked, and Farlan caught a hint of something odd in the man’s voice.
“You already know that Reve and Jazzy are Dinah’s daughters, don’t you?”
“I know more than that,” Powell said. “I’ve narrowed the identity of their father down to three men. Only three men were known to have visited Dinah Collins at her apartment on Hyatt Street in Sevierville in the year before she gave birth to twin daughters. Judge Dodd Keefer, Maxwell Fennel and—”
“Me.”
“I plan to contact Ms. Sorrell in the morning with this information. Is it possible you could narrow down the field even more so that I can give her only one name—her biological father’s name?”
“Tell her that Farlan MacKinnon is her father. And tell her that I want to see her, talk to her, explain to her why . . .” Farlan choked on unshed tears. How could he ever make his daughter understand why he had abandoned her and her twin? How could he ever prove to her that he not only had loved their mother, but that he had loved them?
“Knowing Ms. Sorrell, I’m sure she’ll ask for a DNA test.”
“I’ll agree to a DNA test. And the sooner the better.”
“Mr. MacKinnon, out of curiosity, what is your blood type?”
“My blood type?”
“Yes, Dinah Collins was O-negative.”
“I’m AB-negative,” Farlan said. “Why?”
“Reve Sorrell and Jazzy Talbot are AB-negative.”
Farlan gasped for air. They were Dinah’s babies. His and Dinah’s twins. “Please, tell Reve that I . . . I want to see her.”
Jacob awoke slowly, languidly. The bedside lamp was still on, casting a forty-watt glow over the room. When he stretched, the covers slid off his shoulders and down to mid-chest. He turned over on his side and stared at the woman sleeping beside him. She looked like Jazzy. Same features—nose, mouth, chin. Same long neck. But he’d never gotten a hard-on just being near Jazzy. The two women might be identical twins, but when he looked at Reve, all he saw was Reve, despite her striking physical resemblance to her sister.
He wanted to touch her. Lying there so peacefully, her long hair tousled, her face void of makeup, her body warm and inviting, she posed an irresistible temptation. Having het once hadn’t been enough. He wanted her again. Wanted her right now. And he’d probably want her again in the morning.
Reve Sorrell might be a refined lady outside the bedroom, but naked and aroused, she was a hellcat. Every step of the way, every touch, every kiss, every passionate exchange, she’d given as good as she got.
He’d wanted her more than he’d ever wanted another woman. And his gut instincts told him that she’d wanted him just as badly. They’d gone at each other like a pair of wild animals. This time he wanted to go slower, easier, make it last longer.
Jacob tugged the covers off her left shoulder, then kissed the smattering of tiny freckles that dotted her flesh there. She sighed. He slid his hand beneath the cover and cupped one large breast. She sighed again. When he teased her nipple, she wriggled and groaned.
He grinned, then yanked the covers off her completely. While she was awakening, he cupped her mound and lowered his head to one breast. She gasped. He slipped two fingers between her moist feminine lips and inserted them inside her.
“Jacob.” His name came out whisper soft and sultry.
“Yeah, baby?”
She turned into him, a sexy smile on her face. “Let’s make love again.”
He laughed. “Lady, there’s nothing in this world I’d rather do.”
When he took her into his arms, she slid one leg over his and burrowed against him as he sought her mouth. The kiss began sweet and tender, but within seconds turned hot and wild. He kicked the bunched covers to the foot of the bed. Still kissing him, her hands raking over him frantically, she crawled on top of him and settled her thighs on either side of his hips.
“You want to ride me, baby?” he asked.
“Oh, I’m going to ride you, Sheriff Butler. I’m going to ride you hard and fast.” She rose up enough to center her body perfectly over his, her intention apparently to ease herself down over his erection.
Before she could take charge, he grabbed her buttocks, then thrust up and into her. Gasping when he took her completely, she tossed back her head and keened softly.
“You wanted it, you got it,” he told her, doing his best not to move once he was buried to the hilt inside her. God, she was hot and wet and tight. If he moved at all right now, he was liable to come.
Leaning forward, positioning herself so that her hands splayed out on either side of his head and her tits hung over his mouth, Reve began rocking back and forth, then up and down. She was killing him. It was all he could do to slow the inevitable, but he couldn’t wait much longer. While he caressed her hips, loving the feel of her soft, supple skin, he lifted his head and opened his mouth to capture one tight, begging nipple. He gave each breast equal attention, altern ating back and forth. When she increased the tempo, he suckled one breast and tormented the other with his fingertips. He had to bring her to the breaking point where he was heading right now, and hanging on only by a thread. And he had to do it fast.
He’d wanted to make this second time last longer, but God Almighty, it wasn’t possible. He was on the verge of losing it. And if she didn’t come any minute now, he wouldn’t be able to wait for her. Reve Sorrell turned him inside out and every which way but loose.
He felt her tightening around him, knew her body was swelling as it gushed with moisture. She took complete charge, seeking and finding what she wanted, taking her own pleasure. She whimpered and shook, then cried out when her climax hit. That was all he could take, the final blow that sent him toppling over the edge. When he came, his ears rang and he thought the top of his head would blow off.
While he groaned and jetted into her, he suddenly realized he hadn’t used any protection. Damn, he’d never done anything that stupid. But then he’d never lost his head over a woman the way he had Reve. She was such bad news for him. But right this minute, he didn’t give a damn. He felt too good. Had enjoyed loving her far too much to have any regrets. Time enough for recriminations in the morning.
She lay on top of him, sprawled out as if they were permanently attached. Using his foot, he drew the edge of the covers up far enough in the bed to manage to grab them and drag them up and over Reve.
“I’m too heavy,” she said. “I should—”
He wrapped his arms around her and held tightly. “Baby, don’t you dare move. You stay right where you are.”
Sighing, curling herself around him, she kissed his neck, his ear and then sought his mouth. With her lips almost on his, she said, “We’re going to do this again later, aren’t we?”
“You bet your sweet ass we are. I haven’t had nearly enough of you.”
“I feel the same way.”
“Then you’d better go to sleep and get a little rest so you’ll be ready for the next time.”
Smiling dreamily, she settled on top of him. He’d never known a sweeter weight against his body. As far as he was concerned, they could stay like this from now on. He laid his hand possessively over her butt, then closed his eyes.
When the telephone rang, Jacob woke with a start, not realizing at first that he’d fallen off to sleep. In his effort to reach the phone, he toppled Reve off him and onto the bed. By the time he managed to grab the receiver, Reve was wide awake.
“Yeah?” Jacob said.
“Who’s this?” a male voice asked.
“Who’s this?” Jacob countered.
“Jacob, is that you?”
He suddenly recognized the voice. “Yeah, Caleb, it’s me.”
“Keeping Reve company?” Caleb chuckled.
“What’s up? Why are you calling? Has something happened to Jazzy?”
Reve sat straight up and grabbed Jacob’s arm. “What’s wrong?”
“Yeah, something’s happened all right,” Caleb said. “Jazzy woke up about five minutes ago. She woke up, looked right at me and smiled. The nurses are in there with her now, and they’ve called Dr. Behel and Dr. Cornelius.”
Emotion knotted in Jacob’s chest. A lot of prayers had been answered, including his. “I’ll bring Reve right on over there.” After hanging up the phone, he turned and grabbed Reve by the shoulders. She stared at him, hope and fear in her eyes. “Jazzy’s come out of the coma. She looked at Caleb and smiled.”
Reve threw her arms around Jacob and hugged him as tears streamed down her cheeks. “This is the best possible news. Jazzy’s awake. She’s really going to be all right, isn’t she?”
Jacob pulled back, cupped Reve’s face in his hands and kissed her. “Yeah, baby, Jazzy’s going to be all right.”