Joley shrugged. "Don't look so scared for me."

"We owe him," Sarah said. "We all swore we'd answer his call when the time came. What does he want?"

Joley made a face. "Who knows, who cares. The man can burn in h.e.l.l for all I care. He'd better stay away from me or he'll find out what h.e.l.l really is."

Libby tightened her fingers on Elle. "Let's do this, but with everybody. We all need a little extra strength. Tomorrow morning Abbey and Kate will be back. Before Hannah leaves for the hospital we'll perform the ritual just to make certain we're all in top form."

"You think it will take all of us?" Hannah asked. "I don't like the idea of leaving Jonas alone even for a couple of hours."

"He's in a good hospital," Libby a.s.sured her. "And he's improving every day."

Hannah flashed a small smile. "I forget anyone but you can actually doctor someone, Libby."

Libby laughed. "San Francisco has great hospitals and doctors."

"So what have we learned tonight?" Sarah asked, looking around the circle.

"We're all really good at keeping secrets," Libby said.

"Everyone but you," Hannah teased. "You have whisker burns all over your face. And little bruises on your arms and skid marks on your back, you little hussy."

She had whisker burns other places as well, but she wasn't volunteering the information. Libby smirked. "Yes, I do. And I'm planning on going back for more."

"Do you really love him?" Sarah asked.

"I'm falling so hard, so fast, I don't even know what hit me," Libby admitted, "but you know something? For the first time in my life I feel complete. He makes me feel beautiful when I know I'm not. He makes me feel s.e.xy when for sure I'm not and he looks at me like I'm the only one in the world." A slow smile spread over her face and lit up her eyes. "And he's brilliant. The man is so d.a.m.ned brainy I'm in heaven."

"You're a brain groupie," Hannah pointed out. "And I'm so happy for you."

"Me, too," Libby said. "And on that note I'm going to bed."

"Aren't we going to talk about who might want you dead?" Sarah asked.

"Nope. I'm going to bed and I'll worry about it tomorrow." Libby blew kisses to her sisters as she climbed the stairs to her room.

She could still feel him in her body, on her skin, taste him in her mouth. Slowly she peeled off her clothes and looked at the marks of his possession on her body. There were faint smudges on her skin. She turned to look at her back and burst out laughing, feeling silly, but very happy. Hannah was right, she had rug burn on her back.

"Little Hagatha," she whispered affectionately and lay down in her bed naked, feeling the cool sheets on her body, wishing Tyson was beside her.

Libby lay thinking about Tyson, her body aching all over again. She went over every detail of their evening, wanting to keep it forever etched into her mind. The beauty of his lovemaking, the perfection, the sheer ecstasy she'd never imagined. She should have realized Ty would be a dominant in all things, he was used to being the one in charge. He certainly saw to her every need. Her heart jumped, fingers sliding on the cool sheets under her. Everything had been for her. Tyson had given, taken charge, controlled, but he had taken nothing for himself. Of course he'd achieved a shattering o.r.g.a.s.m, but he couldn't have felt the way she did-complete. Sated. Loved.

Tyson had made her feel s.e.xy for the first time in her life. He'd made her feel as if she were the only woman he could want to be with. He looked at her with longing, with a burning l.u.s.t, but also with something much deeper.

And she'd responded without giving him anything back.

He was that little boy with his box of treasures again. His intellect. His house. His incredible s.e.xual expertise. Even the motorcycle ride, his gift to the good girl so she could play bad girl. Libby groaned softly and covered her face with her hands. She hadn't seen it and she should have. He said she needed him. Well, maybe she did, but he needed her more. He needed someone to love him.

Chapter Thirteen.

"WHAT the h.e.l.l are you doing down here, Tyson? It's ten o'clock in the morning and you haven't been to bed. You were in an accident last night, ripped up your leg and arm, not to mention bruises, and you've got some mad chemist gunning for you." Sam sank down onto the bottom stair of the bas.e.m.e.nt and shook his head. "You're a lost cause, bro. I swear you are. I'm getting gray hair trying to look out for you, man."

Tyson looked up from the latest sheets of data the computer had spilled out, squinting at his cousin. "I thought you'd sleep in, Sam. You were up as late as I was."

"Not quite, you bonehead." Sam grinned at him. "You didn't actually go to bed."

Tyson shrugged. "I tried. I can't sleep without her."

"Her?" Sam's eyebrow shot up. "Libby Drake? Look, Ty. I'm going to give you some advice here and for once in your life, will you please listen to me? f.u.c.k her brains out and get it out of your system. Shower her with presents if it makes you feel less guilty, but for G.o.d's sake, don't fall into the trap of thinking you're in love and you want to marry her. You don't exactly date a lot of women. If she's that great in the sack, by all means, have fun, but the truth is, that rush you're feeling is going to go away and you're going to be left with a big financial mess and a clingy woman."

Tyson looked back down at his data without answering.

"At least tell me you used protection."

"I don't have a disease and neither does she."

"How the h.e.l.l do you know what she has or doesn't have?" Sam said, his disgust plain. "And I'm not talking disease, you moron, I'm talking pregnancy. The oldest trap in the world for a man with money. She's a d.a.m.ned doctor. She knows whether or not she can get pregnant probably right down to the minute."

Tyson whirled around to pin his cousin with an icy, warning stare. "I hope to h.e.l.l she does get pregnant, Sam. If all I have to offer her is money, then, d.a.m.n it, it's all hers. I'm in love with her." He'd never said the words aloud. He hadn't let himself think about the emotion. Loving Libby Drake, if she didn't love him back, it would tear out his heart. He wasn't the kind of man who would recover.

"That is such bulls.h.i.t. You don't even know what love is, Ty. I feel like I'm talking to a d.a.m.ned sixteen-year-old greenhorn having his first s.e.xual encounter. So she's a great f.u.c.k. That's all she is and that's all she'll ever be. You don't fall in love with them, you get your rocks off and leave it at that."

"What the h.e.l.l is wrong with you?" Tyson demanded. "You've known how I felt about Libby for a long time. I told you a few weeks ago I planned on pursuing her."

Sam clenched his fists in utter frustration. "I thought you'd be normal, Ty. I should have known better. You think every man in this town hasn't fantasized one time or another about one of the Drakes getting them off? Personally, I'd love to have Joley lying flat on her back, legs in the air, begging me for it, but you know what? Even if that happened, I'd f.u.c.k her and walk away. I'd go back to the firehouse and have my bragging rights for weeks until everyone was sick of every detail, but jealous as h.e.l.l. The point is, I'd walk away. You don't get caught in the s.e.x trap. That's for kids. Little boys who don't know better."

"You have an interesting philosophy, Sam, a great way to live. It isn't my way."

"You don't have a life. You've never had a life. You live like a mole with no friends most of the time. You can't be bothered with boring details such as actually paying bills or buying groceries. How long you think old Libby is going to stick around once you put a ring on her finger and she has access to all that money? h.e.l.l, Ty. Your own parents couldn't deal with you. You think Libby really wants you?"

"It's possible."

Sam snorted. "She'd be panting after me if I had control of the checkbook. You think she hasn't looked at me? I know when a woman wants me. I have women calling here night and day, not you. You think you're so d.a.m.ned smart." He sneered. "You're as dumb as a rock. I go out with ten different women, do whatever I want to them and they beg me, beg me to take them out again and they even pay for it. You don't see me having to dangle my money or my d.a.m.ned pompous n.o.ble Prize in front of some s.l.u.t's nose to get her to spread her legs."

Tyson took a step forward and stopped himself. A muscle ticked in his jaw and his fingers curled tightly at his sides. This was Sam. Sam sometimes lost his temper and said a lot of c.r.a.p, apologizing profusely a few minutes later. Beating Sam to a b.l.o.o.d.y pulp wasn't the thing to do, no matter how badly Ty needed to do it.

Tyson had always known he held himself tightly under control, but the utter fury sweeping through him was like some terrible destructive storm, bent on destroying anything around him-or anyone. He knew he couldn't hold himself in check with Sam standing in front of him in spite of all his reasoning. "Get the f.u.c.k out of here," he bit out, taking another step toward his cousin. "Right now I want to tear your head off and stuff it in a garbage can. I mean it, Sam. Get out of my sight before I do something I don't want to do."

Sam leapt to his feet. The look on Tyson's face was enough to know he was in serious trouble. Tyson was a strong man with enough lethal training behind him to be intimidating during any given situation, but riled, he looked deadly. Sam rushed up the stairs and slammed the door behind him. Tyson heard a chair crash against it and b.u.mp back down, splintering along the way.

Swearing, Sam took two steps before he realized he wasn't alone. He stopped abruptly, towering over Libby Drake. His hands opened and closed, clenching into two tight fists.

"What the h.e.l.l are you doing skulking around my house? Looking for cash lying around? Or just trying to drive a wedge between my cousin and me?"

"I'd say you were doing a pretty good job of that all by yourself," Libby replied. Her palm itched to slap his face. She couldn't imagine how Tyson would feel after listening to Sam shove it in his face that no one had ever really cared about him as a person. "Ty gave me a key and asked me to come over this morning."

"Great, I have to actually watch you seducing my cousin into making a fool out of himself. Women like you are a dime a dozen. You may as well be whoring on a street corner. At least a streetwalker is honest."

Libby tilted her chin, wishing she were taller. No one had ever looked at her with such a mixture of contempt and loathing. "You can't even consider, not for one minute, that I might love Ty for himself."

Sam snorted. "Yeah. He's such a lovable guy. And so suave with women. h.e.l.l, he wouldn't know how to please a woman if you gave him a map of her body and big red arrows pointing out the hot zones. He's rude to everybody. Because he's such a f.u.c.kin' genius, everyone is supposed to jump when he says so. Yeah, Libby, I believe you're really falling in love with him and that paltry little estate worth upwards of forty million doesn't in any way have anything to do with you taking off your clothes for him. You disgust me."

"I thought you loved him."

"I do love him. Why do you think I'm going to fight you with everything I have to keep you from ruining him? Just because I know what he's like doesn't mean I don't care about him. I've been looking after him since he was a kid. He needs me. You're a sweet piece of a.s.s, probably his first, and the rockets are going off for him, but you aren't going to get away with it."

Libby found herself shaking. She'd never been so insulted, or so despised. The bad girl image wasn't all it was cracked up to be. After listening to Sam's idea of relationships with women, the terrible things he'd said about her, she wasn't even certain she could face Tyson; but now it was even worse. An estate upwards of forty million? No wonder Sam thought the worst of her, but why didn't he think the best of Tyson?

"Well, this piece of a.s.s is going to the lab, get out of my way."

Instead of moving, Sam planted himself squarely in front of the door. "Maybe you want to be with a real man, one who knows what he's doing."

She shook her head. "No, thanks. Your idea of a good time and mine are very different, but I'll ask Joley what she thinks about your oh-so-generous offer."

"You f.u.c.king b.i.t.c.h." He took a step closer to her, his face a mask of rage. Hard fingers bit into her shoulders, nearly pulverizing her bones as he shook her. The more he shook her, the more his anger seemed to increase and the harder he slammed her around.

It wasn't even the physical confrontation that was frightening, it was the anger radiating from him. Libby just didn't have the nature for such deep hostility. For a moment she imagined his hands creeping up to her neck and him strangling her. A small sound escaped, whether a plea or a protest, she wasn't certain, but she forced her shocked body to move, trying to imagine what Joley or Elle would do in the situation. She managed a kick to the shins and another squeak.

The door behind Sam flung open, hitting Sam in the back, driving him into Libby. She stumbled backward under his weight and went down hard, sitting on the tiled kitchen floor, staring up in shocked surprise at Tyson. He looked like an avenging angel. If he had come up with the idea of making peace with his cousin, the thought was gone in a single heartbeat.

He actually roared. Libby heard it. Dark, demonic shadows clouded his face and sparks glittered in the depths of his eyes. He spun Sam around, his shoulder heaving. Sam's head jerked back and Libby heard the sharp crack of fist breaking bone. Sam grunted. Tyson hit him a second time, driving him backwards so that he stumbled over Libby, stepping hard on her thigh; he caught himself and took a couple steps to her left.

Tyson yanked her to her feet and shoved her back behind him. "Get out of here, Libby." His voice was low and utterly cold.

"Stop. Both of you," Libby demanded, horrified. "This is crazy. Sam's nose is broken. Let me take a look at it and both of you calm down."

Was this the kind of thing that happened to Joley? It sickened Libby. She'd never even witnessed a fistfight, not even in school. It was much more primitive and raw then she ever imagined.

"I'm not asking, Libby. Get the h.e.l.l out of here before you get hurt. You've got bruises all over you. No one, no one, puts their hands on you, related or not."

The entire time Tyson didn't take his eyes off his cousin. Cold. Angry. The tension rose until Libby wanted to scream. She thought she knew Tyson, but realized the man who was always so unfailingly gentle with her, was quite capable of extreme violence.

Sam pressed his back against the counter and shook his head, one hand to his nose, the other up in surrender. "I'm not fighting with you, Ty. I've made enough of a jacka.s.s of myself. I don't know what the h.e.l.l got into me." He shook his head again and walked around the island counter to the sink, running water on a paper towel. "I must have sounded like a raving lunatic. I don't need help, I've had a broken nose before."

Tyson glared at his cousin. "You were hurting her, Sam. Hurting her."

"Was I, Libby?" Sam pressed his fingers to his nose, trying to stem the flow of blood. "I'm sorry, I lost my mind. I just don't do change well. That's no excuse, but I've been looking out for Tyson for so long I almost forget he's a grown man. My mother used to tell me he's different, that it was up to me to watch over him and I guess I took it a little too seriously."

"Different doesn't mean slow, Sam," Tyson pointed out.

Libby made no attempt to walk over to help Sam. She couldn't tell exactly why when her instincts insisted. She stood behind Ty and watched his cousin's face. The anger was gone to be replaced by the easygoing charm, but she could still feel his hands on her shoulders, fingers digging all the way to the bone.

"If you're all right, Sam, I promised Irene I'd be seeing Drew today." She glanced at her watch, eager to get out of his presence. She might be able to see his point of view another time, she might even be able to eventually see his side, but she was never going to be friends with Sam Chapman, Tyson's only relative and the only person in the world he loved, and that was heartbreaking. Libby felt she was letting Tyson down. "I can meet you over at the Madisons', Ty, if you still want to come."

Tyson reached out to wrap his hand around the nape of her neck, holding her still. "I'm coming with you now. I've wanted to drive your car."

"What makes you think I'm letting you drive my car?"

He held his hand out for the keys. "Because that poor car deserves to be driven by someone who goes more than thirty miles an hour." He snapped his fingers, palm up. "It begs me every time I get close to it."

Libby dropped the keys obediently into his hand for two reasons. He never took his eyes from Sam, never once looked at her, but kept his cousin pinned with a dark promise of retribution. She didn't want to leave him there. And Sam was watching. She wasn't denying Tyson in front of Sam.

Ty swept his arm around her, turning his back on Sam. "Let's get out of here."

Libby didn't say anything until they were out on the highway. Tyson drove like he did everything, with complete commitment and focus. He stared straight ahead, hands loose on the wheel and gear shift, the car smoother going through the tight turns than it had ever been.

"Are you all right, Ty?" Libby ventured. His jaw was set, his expression blank, but his eyes were alive with pain. She wanted to cry for him.

"You're the one he was trying to slam into the wall."

She winced at the clipped grimness in his voice. "People say things in anger they don't mean. He's worried about you and I can't blame him."

He glanced at her, a brief sideways flick of his eyes as the Porsche slid smoothly through a series of S turns. "Don't do that. Don't make excuses for him. People are responsible for what they do whether they're emotionally upset like Irene, drunk, or angry. He could have hurt you. You're not exactly big, Libby."

Too much pain filled the small confines of the car. She opened the window and drew fresh air into her lungs. "It's not true, you know."

His gaze slid sideways again and then back to the road. "That you're not a hundred pounds soaking wet?"

"The things he said. About the money. About someone not wanting you for yourself. About someone loving you. I don't care about the money."

A muscle jerked in the side of his jaw. "I know the money doesn't mean anything to you, Libby. I've watched you too long to think you were ever after my money. You don't have to tell me that."

Abruptly he pulled the small sportster onto the shoulder of the road, put his head down, brow on the steering wheel, breathing deeply.

Libby put her hand on his shoulder. "Talk to me."

He shook his head. "The things he said..."

"None of it was true."

Head still on the wheel, he turned to look at her, anguish in his eyes. "What do I do that's so wrong all the time? I've seen exasperation in your eyes, the same as I've seen in Sam's, in my parents. What is it I do that you don't do, that Sam doesn't? The rest of the world? What makes me so d.a.m.ned unlovable?"

Libby brushed caressing fingers through his hair. "People can love someone and still be exasperated, Ty. They can get angry and have terrible fights. You've removed yourself emotionally from the world for so long you don't recognize things that are normal. It's when you feel very strong emotions that you can have pa.s.sionate reactions. Believe me, my parents were often exasperated with Joley, but she is very, very loved."

"I don't feel sorry for myself, Libby. I never thought how much my life was missing until recently."

Libby leaned closer to him, rubbed her cheek against his shoulder. "Maybe you aren't for everyone, Ty. Neither am I. Most couples find one another because they're right for one another. Maybe someone else couldn't live with you forgetting dates."

"I've never remembered my own birthday let alone someone else's."

She laughed softly. "Somehow, hon, that doesn't surprise me in the least. I can live with reminding you about the big things."

"What if we have children?" He put his palm on her stomach. "What if you're already pregnant? I'd make a terrible parent. I'd probably forget to come to their birth."