by Rita Herron
An article about Sarah’s father possibly being alive followed.
Sarah paled beside him.
He could see the worry, the uncertainty in her eyes.
Her family, what little she had left, might be destroyed when he got his sister back.
And he had no way of promising her that it might not happen.
“Did you know about this?”
She nodded.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
She simply shrugged, a wariness in her expression that told him a lot. She didn’t trust him. Hurt and anger slammed into him.
“Is it true? Is your father alive?” He rammed his hand through his hair. “Could he be responsible for all this havoc? Could he be a part of the German company?”
Sarah shook her head in denial, then wrote. “I don’t know. That’s what I asked Sol about the night he hit me, but he said police found evidence my dad did die in that fire.”
“Have you received any gifts, notes, anything over the years to indicate he might be alive and in hiding?”
“No. Nothing.”
“You could have told me, Sarah.”
She clenched her hands in her lap but said nothing. He turned back to the files, disappointed although he didn’t know why. If he were in her shoes, would he have told?
Seconds later, his pulse jumped when he stumbled across a set of maps—maps which detailed the research facilities, the buildings on Catcall, plans for the ones on Whistlestop and a drawing of two cites on Nighthawk Island. Stars highlighted one of the buildings.
“My father’s office was in that building,” Sarah wrote. “But Sol told me the entire place had been destroyed.”
According to the plans, though, the buildings had been renovated and were being used for highly classified government projects. Her godfather had lied about the building.
Had he lied about other things, as well?
HAD SOL LIED about other things? Sarah wondered as they knocked on Russell Harley’s door thirty minutes later. Like whether or not her father was alive.
If he was, could he have somehow come back? Maybe joined the center? Could he be hiding out on Nighthawk Island working in secret for the center? Could he be behind all this trouble? Maybe working for the Germans?
The possibility was far-fetched. Still, Sarah couldn’t stifle the uncertainty, the very reason she wouldn’t let Adam talk her into not going with him. If they discovered something about her father, she wanted to be there.
Adam pounded on Russell’s door.
Russell opened the door, tugging on a robe, his eyes widening when he saw Adam. “Do you have news about Denise? Did you find her?”
His hair was sticking straight out, his wire-rimmed glasses sitting crookedly on his nose and he had dark circles beneath his eyes as if he hadn’t been sleeping well. Sarah realized Adam still didn’t quite trust the man, but from the genuine worry in Russell’s eyes, it was obvious he still loved Denise.
“No, but I think I may know where she is.”
Russell ushered them in. “Where?”
“In one of those buildings on Nighthawk Island. I want you to help me get there.”
Sarah expected Russell to argue, but instead he agreed. “Let me change. It won’t be easy, but we’ll take my boat.”
Adam nodded. A few seconds later, he emerged.
“Tell me about the insurance policy, Russell,” Adam said as they climbed in Adam’s car. “You get a million if Denise turns up dead?”
Russell frowned. “Dammit, Black, I don’t care about the money.”
“But you’re in debt and I know you refused to sign divorce papers.”
“Half of America is in debt! And I didn’t sign those divorce papers because I was hoping for a reconciliation.”
Sarah twisted her hands in her lap as they drove toward the marina, wincing when Adam explained about breaking into Russell’s boat earlier and searching it.
“You really care about Denise, Harley?” Adam checked the backpack he’d thrown together with emergency supplies, studying Russell as they pulled into the marina.
“Absolutely. I want Denise back.” Russell’s voice wavered. “That is, if Denise is willing to compromise. I really love her, Adam, but I do want a family.”
An odd look settled in Adam’s eyes, a yearning that made Sarah’s stomach twist. Would he ever consider a family of his own? A little boy with thick dark hair and dark eyes…
Probably not, she thought, her heart aching. Not after she’d kept secrets from him. Especially if her own family had played a part in hurting his sister.
DARK CLOUDS hovered above them, moving in from the west, the first sign of the thunderstorm brewing in the sky. Even without it, though, a heavy mist shrouded Nighthawk Island giving it a dark, eerie feeling. Adam wrapped a blanket about Sarah, shielding her from the growing winds with his body as Russell motored the boat into the cove. She’d been shivering the entire ride, her face pale with worry.
“This spot can’t be seen from the security tower,” Russell explained, his voice losing its resonance in the wind. “If you follow that trail through the sea oats, you’ll come out at Building A. If someone has Denise, that’s where they’d take her. The two buildings on the other side are highly restricted because of decontamination requirements.” Russell began tying the boat up just as the first few raindrops splattered onto the shell. “It’ll be tough to get in from there. I’ll go with you.”
“No, stay here and be ready to get us out of here if we find her. The fewer of us crossing the island, the less chance we have of being noticed. But we may have to stop and rest.” Adam indicated Russell’s cell phone and radio. “I’ve got my cell phone. If I call or if we’re not back by noon, get my partner over here with backup immediately
Russell nodded and climbed off the deck.
Adam studied him for a long moment, trying to decide whether to trust him or not. Finally he decided he had no choice. He took Sarah’s hand and led her across the island.
A FEW MINUTES LATER, they raced along the edge of the shore, veering off through the thick sea oats. Thunder crackled and popped, waves thrashed against the rocks, the sounds slamming into Sarah. Wind hurled sand into their faces while lightning zigzagged across the dark sky, shooting a fiery blaze that sent shivers up Sarah’s spine.
Adam shielded her with his body as best he could, pulling her along, and steadying her when she stumbled in the wet sand. They ran through the brush close to a mile, crunching shells and other sea debris beneath their feet, the storm escalating in its intensity.
Another loud clap of thunder rent the air and Sarah froze, memories of that haunting night of the explosion descending over her like a wave engulfing her into the tide.
Adam paused, lightning streaking his face with shades of gold, illuminating the worry in his eyes. “Sarah, come on, we’ll find shelter.”
She could barely hear his voice above the horrendous howl of the wind. He curved his arm around her waist and guided her along, using one hand to push aside the thick brush. She slipped on a piece of tree bark and clutched his arm, her nails digging into his damp shirt. Her hair was soaked, the long strands matted against her cheeks, but she pushed on, determined to fight the ghosts that haunted her with every stormy night.
Still, her mother’s face flashed in front of her, as if she were standing on the cliff, flames shooting around her, tearing her from Sarah’s arms. Sarah froze again, the horror of the image achingly real.
Adam pulled her into his embrace, and suddenly led them into a cave created by the rocks of the cliff. Inside, the storm echoed off the jagged rock walls and Sarah curved her hands over her ears, sank to her knees, then rocked herself back and forth, trying to drown them out.
Voices echoed in her head, bombarding her. Denise’s crying haunted her like a low careening wail. She pressed her hands over the sound, hating the anguish she could hear in the other woman’s voice.
Lightning struck a tree in the distance, and sudd
enly she was five years old, lying on the sofa taking a nap. A loud clap of thunder burst into the room, waking her.
“Run, Sarah run!”
Sarah dashed toward her mother, but stumbled and fell. Her mother appeared in the doorway. “Get out, Sarah. Run!”
But another explosion hit and wood splintered and rained down around her. The floor erupted into flames, they were eating at her mother, shooting up the walls….
ADAM HAD SEEN the photos in the articles Burgess had. It had been storming the night Sarah’s parents were killed, the night she’d lost her hearing.
She was reliving it now.
His heart clenched, Sarah’s pain becoming his own as he saw the agony in her face. What must it have been like to witness your mother burn to death? Especially at the hands of your father?
He had to get through to her somehow, to bring her out of the misery. He removed a fleece blanket from the backpack and spread it on the ground, then knelt and pulled Sarah into his arms, urging her to lie back in the corner of the cave where it was warm and dry. She was shivering, her teeth chattering, tears streaming down her already wet face. He brushed her hair back and tilted her chin so she had to look at him, but her eyes were glazed and filled with anguish.
“Sarah, honey, it’s Adam, you’re here with me, now—you’re safe.” He soothed her with comforting words, rocking her in his arms, hating the helplessness he felt.
Knowing he needed to warm her, he began to undress her, slowly peeling away the silky fabric of the blouse, then her jeans. She relented, searching his face, silently pleading for him to make her pain go away.
He stripped off his own clothes, telling himself he would only warm her. He wouldn’t take her now, not again. So he wrapped his body around her, letting his strength soak up the sorrow and shock.
“It was storming the night of the explosion, wasn’t it?” he whispered.
She nodded against his chest, clinging to him as he rubbed his hands up and down her arms.
“You woke to the sound of thunder? Then the house caught fire?”
She nodded again, a low whimper erupting.
He soothed her and stroked her back, pressing gentle kisses along her brow where a tiny scar marred her hairline. He was frustrated not being able to fully communicate with her—it must be frustrating for her all the time. “And you saw your father, didn’t you? You thought he was going to save you and your mother?”
Slowly, she lifted her gaze to his, tears slipping down her cheeks as she looked into his eyes, the truth so painful he felt her agony deep inside.
No wonder she hadn’t spoken since that horrible night—she’d probably cried out for her father. But he’d only stood by to watch them die. Like the nighthawk that preyed on the weak.
Unable to control the rage that rose inside him, his own eyes grew moist, and a lump formed in his throat. His father hadn’t been much financially, but he had loved him and Denise. And that love had meant more than any money he might have given them.
Dear God, he’d been a fool to worry about the material things Santenelli had given her. She would have gladly traded them for her father’s love any day.
He didn’t want to hurt her more if he discovered her godfather and the center were involved with Denise’s disappearance.
Her ragged breath tore out in gulps. So he began to sing one of his favorite songs, an old hit from Don Henley, “The Heart of the Matter.”
Finally, she seemed to calm, the tremors in her body subsiding, her breathing steadying to a low whisper. She was exhausted and they both needed sleep before they could go any further. Her fine-boned hands reached ntatively touched his chest, her fingers tangling in the thick dark hair, her breath brushing his neck. He pressed soft gentle kisses along her hair, her forehead, her nose, her cheeks, whispering that he would keep her safe, that everything would be all right.
He only wished he believed it.
Chapter Twenty-One
Sarah was falling in love with Adam.
She soaked up his warmth and the comfort of his embrace, the horror of the storm and her memories abating as Adam’s strength melted into her. His skin felt hot, the coarse hair on his chest sending a dozen sensations skittering up her spine.
Everything that had happened to bring them together, the danger, the emotions, the hot lust spiraling between them surged to renewed heights as his gaze found hers. His pupils were dilated, his jaw clenched tight, the hunger in his expression fierce—and all for her.
Nothing else mattered at that moment. Not the storm or the unanswered questions about her father, not even the fact that he would walk away from her soon.
She wanted him to kiss her. To touch her and make her forget the bad memories, to make her come alive with memories of him, memories she could take with her forever.
Her hand brushed his chest, rubbing over his nipple, and she smiled when his body stiffened with arousal. The thick hair on his leg brushed against her thigh as he moved his leg over her, tangling his leg with hers. She stroked his calf with her foot, rubbing slowly up and down the bulging muscle, and cuddled closer to him so her belly brushed his sex. He was hard and big and so damn sexy.
“Sarah—”
She pressed her finger to his lips, begging him with her eyes to make love to her. Afraid he might pull away, and aching to give herself to him with an abandon she’d never felt before, she kissed his chest, nuzzling her face in his warmth, dipping one hand lower to tease his sex, then stroke his swollen flesh. His masculine scent engulfed her.
He watched her with an intensity that stole her breath, then a low growl erupted from deep in his throat. She smiled again, this time biting his nipple, then suckling it gently. His breath caught, and he tilted her chin up, forcing her to stare into his soulful eyes. Hunger, concern, passion, tightened the air between them.
“I want you like I’ve never wanted a woman, Sarah,” he murmured huskily. “But I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t,” she mouthed softly, grateful the voices in her head had finally gone silent. She lifted her hand and slowly signed, “I want you, Adam.”
Even without words, he understood her message. His eyes lit with a smile so full of tenderness and desire that her throat closed. Lightning zigzagged through the opening of the cave, illuminating the rugged plains of his face, the thunder mimicking the rapid pounding of her heart as his hands swept over her breasts. His breath fanned her cheek as he lowered his head and captured her mouth with his.
Tongues mated, bodies moved in synchronized rhythm, passion exploded between them. His hands kneaded her breasts, torturing her niles while his tongue danced inside her mouth. He laved her neck with his kisses, then her breasts, suckling each one so that the loud sound echoed in the dark cavern. Heat pooled inside her, a delicious warmth of sensations building inside her body, charging every pore with hunger and love. She’d never imagined wanting a man so much, being able to release her inhibitions to share the erotic joining of their bodies, yet with Adam, she couldn’t imagine not being with him this way.
She clawed at his back as he lowered his head, trailing kisses along her abdomen, pulling down her lacy panties with his hands, then moved lower to the insides of her thighs. His long black hair brushed her stomach, then he parted her legs with his hands and placed his mouth to her, suckling greedily.
Sarah thought she might explode. She wanted him inside her. He gave her the sweet, erotic gift of his tongue instead.
Moaning silently, she pulled at his hands, but he deepened the torture by thrusting his tongue inside her. Her breath hitched, the ache building. With a growl of pure animal lust, he rolled her over and stretched his body on top of her, bracing his arms on the ground beside hers as he stroked her legs with his own hair-dusted ones, the course texture creating sensual friction against her smooth skin. His sex pulsed against her backside and she moaned, parting her legs, not caring how she looked as she silently begged him to take her.
He denied her still.
/> Instead he brushed her hair aside with one hand, and nibbled at her neck, kissing the sensitive skin below her ears. Murmuring erotic words in her hair, he pushed a finger inside her, stroking, torturing her more. With a satisfied sigh, he removed it, then slid two fingers inside her, deeper, deeper, stretching her with each thrust.
Rumbling a husky, erotic endearment, he dropped kisses along her back, lower, lower until she wanted to cry out for him to stop, to plunge his shaft inside her.
“I want you so bad I can’t stand it,” he growled.
Sarah whimpered, hating the desperation she felt, knowing Adam could do whatever he wanted with her now and she was helpless to deny him.
Then he crawled above her, pressed his sex at the tip of her buttocks and stroked downward. He pressed her hands on the blanket so she couldn’t move, then spread her legs apart with his knee, and finally with one hard thrust, rammed his sex inside her. Sarah whimpered and bucked upward, the tightness, the pressure of his body inside hers almost unbearable. He took her fast and hard, pumping inside her with such hot abandon that the tidal wave of need she’d felt building exploded inside her. Tremors of passion shook her as he rammed into her again and again, then a gut-wrenching moan of pleasure tore from him and he took her to heaven.
ADAM COULDN’T EXPLAIN what had overcome him, but when he’d looked into Sarah’s sultry eyes and seen how much she’d wanted him, the fierce need to possess her had spiked his passion to a level he hadn’t been able to control.
He felt as if he had lost part of himself during the process. Part of his heart and soul. He’d given it to Sarah.
That had never happened to him before.
He’d also forgotten protect
That had never happened before, either.
In fact, in the heat of their joining, he’d even imagined putting his baby in Sarah’s belly. The two of them making a life together, a family.
Afraid he was crushing her, he slowly lifted himself from her and slid to her side. She rolled over instantly, threw her arm across his chest and snuggled in his arms. He should pull away, talk to her right now, but she tangled her legs with his, and he lost his ability to speak.