Page 50 of His Virgin Vessel

Chapter Nineteen

Corinne

I would have given anything to stay in bed late the following morning. It had been a long few days, and I had seldom had the chance for rest, on top of which, my body ached from head to toe, every muscle strained. But it was a delicious ache, one I felt that I had earned and one I relished. It wasn't as if it had been particularly athletic sex, certainly not compared to some of our other sessions. But Asa had made my body twang like a bow-string, he had made every muscle taut with desire, and he had done so for a very long time. There had been many times, especially since I turned eighteen, when I had hated my virginity and was so desperate to lose it that I thought of giving it rashly to anyone who would take it. It was such a relief to find that I had done the right thing, and that by waiting I had allowed myself to find the right person. Boy, was I being rewarded for waiting.

Despite the rigors of last night and the plethora of aches and pains in my deliciously ravished body that morning, I still found myself wanting to shower with Asa. My desire for him was as potent as ever. But we had already stretched Porter Crucero's hospitality pretty far. It would be nice to think that he had not heard us last night, but he probably had. Making love in his shower would have definitely crossed the line. Besides, we needed to get moving quickly that morning. The longer we waited, the greater the chance of something happening to tear this tenuous deal apart. So, there was no sleeping in for me.

"Morning," said Porter, as Asa and I entered the kitchen. "There's coffee in the pot. Then we should head out."

Asa nodded. He too understood how important it was to get moving on this, though if he was worried he did not show it.

I poured myself a much-needed coffee and leaned against the counter top, staring out the window to drink it. It was going to be a tough day, one way or the other, and there was no way of knowing how it might end, but the thing that was bothering me most right at that instant (perhaps rather selfishly) was that there seemed no way of getting through the necessities of today without facing my dad at some point, which was not something I was looking forward to.

I glanced out of the window, and the blood in my veins turned to ice. Seeing my dad at the station was not something I was looking forward to, but at least it was a controlled environment, and Asa and I would be seeing him in a professional capacity. Seeing him at the station would be a hell of a lot better than, for instance, him turning up here, unannounced. But that was just what he had done. Out of the window, I saw his car pulling up.

"Oh no ..." I couldn't think of anything more original to say.

"What the hell is he doing here?" Porter asked, seeing his career flash before his eyes.

"That's probably not the first question we should be looking to answer," Asa said. "What do we do?"

"Hide!" I was panicking.

But Porter shook his head. "He'll see the car. It's the one you stole, and he probably knows the plates by heart. We've got to be upfront."

I had a feeling that being upfront wasn't going to be as easy as it sounded. That feeling proved correct seconds later when my father crashed through the door.

"Where the hell is he?"

"Brian ..." Porter began.

"I'll deal with you later!" Dad pointed an accusing finger at Porter. Then he saw Asa. He didn't say a word, launching himself at the man who had stolen his little girl. Dad was not a small man, by any means, and he was tough as old boots, but Asa was bigger and stronger. I think in a fair fight, Dad would have been wily enough to get in a few blows and hold his own, but Asa would have taken it. But this was not a fair fight. Asa was not going to hit my dad while I was there, so he simply tried defend himself. My dad, meanwhile, driven by blinding rage, had no such limitations. As Asa dodged a blow, Dad drew his gun and cracked Asa across the forehead with the butt.

I screamed as Asa went down. Dad raised his gun again, and I ran forwards, putting myself between the men I loved.

"No! Dad! It's not how you think! I'm in love with him, and he isn't what you think, and he's going to help you ..." I babbled on desperately, just hoping I could keep Dad away from Asa long enough for Dad to start thinking clearly again—thinking like a sheriff rather than a hurt father. "He came here to turn himself in. To turn himself in! He's going to help you catch some Mafia guys. Ask Porter! And if he you had said no, then he was going to go to jail without trying to get out of it! He wants to help. He's trying to do the right thing. Ask Porter! And he never hurt me, Dad, he never once hurt me!"

Dad's gun hand dropped, and Porter took the opportunity to step in.

"It's true, sir. Maybe I should have told you last night when they showed up, but. .. what with him and your daughter, I wasn't sure how you might react. To be honest, sir—and you know how deeply I respect you—I wasn't sure if you could be entirely unbiased where Covert is concerned."

Dad's face was unreadable as he spoke. "And what were your plans concerning my daughter?"

"We were all going to the precinct this morning," Porter continued. "Once Asa was either an official informant, or in jail, I was going to take Corinne home, so she could talk to you. For what it's worth, sir," Porter spoke a bit more cagily now, "and I know it's not my place, I think this thing between them is genuine. On both sides."

Still, Dad's face remained set in stone. "Mafia guys?"

"He claims to have information."

"And if he doesn't?"

"He'll stand trial for selling hooch, stealing that car outside, and whatever else we've got on him."

"Which is probably a fraction of what he's done," my dad grunted.

"Probably," said Porter. "Where the law is concerned, anyway. But I don't think he's hurt anyone who didn't have it coming."

"Maybe."

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