Chapter 20

“How are you feeling?” Taylor asked her mother.

“Better … I guess.”

Taylor had swung by her mother’s house after working late, to see how the transfusion had gone. Her mother was propped up by half a dozen pillows in the family room, watching television. Seated nearby, Caleb munched on handfuls of cashews and eyed Taylor as if he expected her to pull a gun and shoot him.

“What did the doctor say?”

“She’ll be all right for now,” Caleb answered for her mother.

Taylor tried not to be frustrated, hurt. Her mother seemed more interested in the television program than talking to her. She ignored Caleb and directed her question to her mother.

“What does it mean that you’re all right for now?”

“She’s all right until her next blood test.”

Taylor resisted the urge to make a sarcastic remark. Caleb Bassett might have a veneer of charm—to some people—but he was truly a loathsome man. She certainly hoped he hadn’t raised Renata. The woman’s last years had been hard enough.

Taylor could only imagine what a childhood with Caleb would have been like. Shane was scheduled to investigate the man, but with the murder, he hadn’t had the time.

“Mother, when is your next blood workup?”

Her mother turned her head toward Taylor. Her blue eyes were a glazed dull gray. No doubt the pain medication caused the listlessness.

“Next Thursday.”

A little over a week, Taylor thought as her mother turned back to the television. Taylor hated to ask the next question, but she had to know.

“Does the doctor think he’ll have to put you on chemotherapy?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Caleb said.

A rush of red-hot fury blurred Taylor’s vision for an instant. She clamped her mouth shut to keep from lashing out. She refused to give him the satisfaction.

“You’d get a kick out of seeing your mother suffer, wouldn’t you?”

Taylor jumped to her feet. “What a horrible thing to say! Just who do you think you are?”

Caleb’s smug grin kicked her anger up another notch.

“I don’t know. Vanessa, who am I?”

Her mother turned to them, a puzzled expression on her face, as if their words were just registering and she was trying to sort them out. Taylor wondered if this creep was overmedicating her.

“Caleb is … is … my friend.”

“I’m your daughter and I love you.”

Taylor sank onto the sofa beside her mother. So far, she hadn’t mentioned Renata’s death or blamed her for it. Caleb must have been lying when he’d told her that her mother didn’t want to see her.

“I’m worried about your health, Mother.”

Her mother looked at Taylor blankly for a second. “I’m worried about you, too.”

“Me? Why?”

“That worthless photographer isn’t the man for you.”

Paul really had tried to please her mother, but Vanessa had been positively glacial to him. It had embarrassed and angered Taylor. She had tried to talk to her mother about her attitude. Stubborn to a fault, Vanessa had insisted Taylor could do better than Paul.

Those arguments seemed like ancient history in light of all that had happened. Why would her mother bring up Paul? He had been gone two years, and she was with another man.

She didn’t want to analyze how she felt about Shane. With Caleb present, now wasn’t the time to tell her mother she was seeing Shane.

The man in her life wasn’t the issue. Her mother almost sounded as if she thought Paul was still living in Miami.

“Mother,” Taylor began, testing, “Paul isn’t around anymore, remember?”

“Of course I remember,” she snapped, but Taylor wondered if the drugs were playing tricks with her mind.

Caleb downed another handful of cashews, then smiled, obviously enjoying this.

Her mother patted her hand. “He wasn’t the man for you. Shane Donovan is your soul mate. Renata said so.”

Renata again.

When was the last time her mother had told her how much she loved her? Not since Renata had appeared.

“Renata knew things. Saw things.” Caleb tapped on his temple with his index finger. “That’s why the Santería scared her. She musta’ known something terrible was going to happen to her.”

Taylor did not want to discuss Renata. It only upset her mother and drove them further apart.

Exactly what Caleb Bassett wanted.

“The doctor won’t tell me how much medication my mother is supposed to be taking—or anything about her condition. I’m her daughter. I need to know if that creep is overmedicating her or something else is wrong.”

“Telling you violates a patient’s right to privacy and could have legal ramifications.”

Curled up on Shane’s sofa, Taylor listened to Shane and stroked Auggie’s silky head. It was comforting to have someone to talk with. She’d come home from her mother’s angry and upset, not knowing what to do.

When she’d arrived to an empty apartment, Taylor’s first thought had been to call Lisa, but her friend wasn’t home. If she was still at Midnight Lace, she wasn’t answering the telephone.

Taylor had reached for her laptop to work on her computer game the way she often did when she found herself home alone and edgy. It wasn’t beside her purse.

She remembered packing it up and putting it on top of her desk. She’d been so preoccupied with her mother that she’d left the office without taking it.

Gazing out the window, she wondered if she could get to sleep. Like a beacon, Shane’s lights had been shining across the courtyard.

She’d rushed over and had been astounded at how glad she was to see him, to be able to talk with him. She hadn’t realized how close they’d become in such a short time.

“The doctor explained about patients’ rights,” she told Shane. “Still, I think he should have been more concerned when I told him I suspected she was over-medicated, but he didn’t seem to care.”

“Why don’t you ask Maria to check on the amount of medication your mother is taking?”

“I don’t speak Spanish well enough. My mother insisted I take French—a refined language.”

Taylor shook her head, remembering the arguments she’d had with her mother over this.

“In Miami you need Spanish, not French.”

“I’ll ask her for you.”

Taylor stared at Shane for a second, surprised. “You speak Spanish?”

“Fluently.”

“You’re kidding!” she cried, and Auggie looked up at her, startled.

“This is your lucky day. How can we get in touch with her without your mother or Caleb knowing?”

“Easy. There’s a separate telephone line to the servants’ quarters.”

“Let’s call her right now.”

She found the number in the Palm Pilot she kept in her purse, dialed it, and handed the telephone to Shane. Taylor smiled as she listened to him speaking Spanish. There was something so reassuring about being with Shane.

Paul hadn’t made her feel so … safe. In many ways, she’d nurtured him, encouraging his career, enduring his criticism of her family.

She’d tried not to compare the two men, but at times like this, when she was so stressed with worry, it was difficult not to wonder what Paul would have done. Of course he would have tried to help, but Shane had the skills to get things done.

She still loved Paul and would give anything she had or hoped to have to bring him back home. But Lisa was right. The chances of Paul being alive were slim to nonexistent.

Life goes on.

Sad but true, she thought as Auggie rested his head on her knee, looking up at her with soulful eyes. She and Paul had been together a little less than a year. Now he’d been gone almost two years.

He wasn’t coming back.

Shane was here, helping her up when she needed it the most. They’d had great sex, and she’d tried to tell herself that’s all it was.

Sex. Nothing more.

She could handle sex. There had been men in her life before she fell in love with Paul. She was a young woman with a normal sex drive, for God’s sake.

Taylor had assumed all Shane had wanted was sex. Wrong. He’d insisted on doing as much as he could for her by trying to solve the murder.

And helping with her mother.

Losing Paul was heartrending, but if her mother died believing she was a killer, Taylor knew she’d never get over it.

Her mother wasn’t always the easiest person in the world to get along with. She could be overbearing, difficult. Pretentious.

But she was her mother, and Taylor loved her.

Shane hung up the telephone and broke into her thoughts, saying, “Okay, here’s the deal. When she gets a chance, Maria is going to write down the names of the medications your mother is taking, then call me here. She’ll leave a message if I’m not home.

“Apparently, your mother has a number of prescriptions. We just want Maria to watch the painkillers. Those are the ones Caleb may be using to up the dosage.”

“If he is, what can I do?”

“You and your brother need to talk to your mother. I’ll take care of Caleb while you do it.”

“Why would Caleb overmedicate my mother?”

He grazed a fingertip upward from her knee and under her skirt.

“Come on, Taylor. You’re smarter than that.”

“He’s trying to get her money.”

“Bingo.”

He framed her face with his hands and kissed the tip of her nose. “We’ve done all we can do for tonight—for your mother. It’s time we took care of each other.”

“I can’t.” Her voice trembled.

“Why not?”

His lips hovered over hers, and it was all she could do not to close the gap. “Too much is going on in my life. Things are happening too fast.”

“Okay, I can understand how you feel, but I think you’re afraid.”

She raised her eyebrows and shrugged. I’m not afraid of sex. I’m afraid of love.

“I’m going home.”

“No, you’re not.” He pulled her close. “You’re spending the night here in my bed. Right, Auggie?”

At the sound of his name, the dog’s tail whipped through the air. Taylor had to smile, her heart beating faster than Auggie’s tail. Being here in Shane’s arms felt so … special.

Why should she deprive herself?

He swept her off the sofa into his arms and carried her to his bedroom. She didn’t protest when he lowered her to the bed and gave her a quick kiss.

“Just a minute.”

She waited in the dark, one hand over the side of the bed petting Auggie. A scratching sound was followed by the flare of a candle. A second later, Shane lit another candle.

Strange, she thought. Shane didn’t seem like a guy who would have candles in his bedroom. She sniffed, then inhaled more deeply.

Jasmine and vanilla.

“Lisa gave you aromatherapy candles.”

“Gave? Hell, no.” He lit another candle. “She made me buy them. Sold me Love Dust, too.”

Taylor moaned softly to herself. Anticipating. She started to unbutton her blouse.

“No, you don’t. I want to undress you.”

He straddled her, his knees beside her hips. He took his sweet time unbuttoning her blouse. When he finished, he shoved the panels aside and gazed down at the lacy bra covering her breasts.

The candlelight shimmered over her exposed skin, and the fragrant scent of vanilla mingled with jasmine filled her lungs. Taylor smiled up at Shane, a fluid heat unfurling from deep within her body.

“We’re just right for each other,” Shane told her as he eased her skirt down over her hips.

She shimmied a little to help get it off. “Just right.”

The words kindled something she thought she’d lost when Paul had vanished. A second chance. Not at love, she told herself, but at a relationship.

She was fine alone. The last two years had proved how self-sufficient she could be, but she didn’t want her life to be so solitary.

All work—the company and her game—nothing more. Life was meant to be lived, shared.

Standing beside the bed, he removed his clothes, stripping down to black briefs. Black silk.

“Mmmmmm,” she purred. “Lisa’s just too naughty.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked, lowering himself down beside her. “Don’t you think I picked these up on my own?”

She reached out and cupped his sex through the satiny fabric. Hard and hot.

“No. You’re the practical type. Lisa put you up to this.”

He removed her hand, then unhooked her bra. A rush of cool air peaked her nipples, and Shane bent down to tease one with the tip of his tongue. Just as she was settling in, enjoying each stroke, he stopped.

“Time for the Love Dust.”

He had a canister of Lisa’s ground honey concoction. Using the small feather duster, he brushed the amber talc across her breasts. Alternating short and long, then swirly movements, he whisked the power across her body.

He stopped and set the canister on the nightstand. “Now for the real fun.”

“Define fun.”

“This is my idea of fun. Let me know when you’re having a good time.”

He licked the Love Dust off her nipples, suckling each taut bud gently as he did. With every stroke, pleasure radiated downward, a melting sweetness pooling in the moist heat between her thighs.

Shane lifted his head and pressed his lips against hers. His mouth tasted like warm honey. The scent of it was light, sweet. The kiss sang through her veins, sending her pulse rate even higher.

A taste of honey, she thought.

The scent of jasmine and vanilla.

Now this was aromatherapy, the treatment her tired soul needed.

“Shane,” she murmured, arching upward against the masculine length of his body. “I—”

KA-BOOM! The concussion rocked the bed. The sound of shattering glass was followed by a woman’s piercing scream.

In a heartbeat, Shane was on his feet. “Stay there!”

He yanked on his trousers, then grabbed a gun from the nightstand. He sprinted out of the room, and Taylor followed, the sheet wrapped around her.

The living room glowed brilliant orange. For a second, she thought his apartment was on fire. Then she realized the light was coming from a pillar of flame shooting into the night sky.

From her apartment.