The Midnight Hour - Brenda Jackson [79]
When she placed the empty glass on the tiled counter, she felt a tingling sensation in her stomach. Although it was way too early in her pregnancy to feel her baby move, she
believed in her heart that her child was letting her know that it felt its father's presence and felt safe.
"Ready, Tori?"
She nodded, although she doubted if she would ever be fully ready-for Drake Warren. Even as Sandy, she had thought he was overwhelming. There had always been something about him that preyed on her sensual side and always sparked her with potent desire whenever she was around him. The only time she'd been able to tone it down was when they were on a mission together. Then she would put business first. But then alone, with whatever privacy they could manage, they would tumble into each other's arms like mating was the most natural thing for them to do.
"Yes, I'm ready," she replied, unable to calm the rapid and intense thump of her heartbeat when he crossed the room to her.
"Then let's sit at the table and talk."
She swallowed deeply. "All right."
Before she could recover from his closeness, he took her hand in his. His touch immediately sent a sexual current radiating through her that she felt all the way to her toes. She glanced up at him and knew he had felt it, too. But he didn't say anything as he led her over to the table where they had eaten earlier.
He took the chair facing her. "Okay, what's going on, Tori? What do you have to tell me?"
Tori swallowed as she gazed at him. "It's about Sandy." She watched his reaction at the mention of his fiancee's name.
He raised his brow. "Sandy?" he asked in surprise. "What about her?"
She hesitated, swallowed again. Then said, or tried to say, "She didn't…"
Drake sat forward in the chair, attentive, waiting for her to finish what she was saying. When it appeared that she wouldn't, he leaned closer. "She didn't what?"
Tori glanced away from him, feeling the tension radiating in him. He was picking up on her nervousness and she could tell that it was making him uneasy, agitated, and edgy. When moments passed and she didn't say anything, he reached across the table, cupped her chin, turning her face back to his. "Answer me."
Tori met his gaze. The tension she had seen in his features had extended to his voice. It was shaky, strained. "Sandy, sh-she didn't die in that explosion, Drake. She survived."
Drake stared at her like she had gone stone crazy, absolutely foolish, seriously deranged. Then she added quietly, "She did survive, Drake. Sandy didn't die in Haiti."
Something in Tori's eyes told Drake that she believed what she was saying, no matter how far-fetched her words seemed. He continued looking at her and suddenly felt as if he'd gotten punched in the stomach and his breath was cut off, making breathing difficult. "You want me to believe that Sandy survived that explosion and I, of all people, didn't know about it?" he asked, his words forced, and his voice barely recognizable even to his own ears.
"Yes." She inhaled deeply and gazed intensely into his eyes. "The reason you didn't know is because she couldn't tell you, and-"
"No!" Drake jumped out of his chair, turning it over in the process. The crash sounded loud when it hit the floor. He put up his hand to stop any further words Tori was about to say. "I don't know where the hell you got your information, lady, but I don't believe any of it. I was there. After I came back around, I saw that warehouse. I read the reports. I saw-"
"What you didn't see," she said, standing and cutting off his words, "was Sandy's body because there wasn't one, Drake. She didn't die. She survived and under tight security she