by Rita Herron
The storm had ended outside, yet tomorrow another one might brew—one of a different kind. Unable to resist a few more hours with her before they were torn apart by what had happened to his sister, he cradled her in his arms, brushed a kiss on the top of her hair and held her, emotions for her spilling over as they both fell asleep.
SARAH WOKE in the early hours of the morning, faint sunbeams creating shadows in the cave and dappling Adam’s handsome face with hazy light. She loved him more than she’d ever thought possible. He’d treated her like a whole woman the night before, not as if she were fragile or inadequate.
Maybe they could have a life together once this whole ordeal was over.
Beautiful sounds filled her head now—the husky whisper of his voice saying her name when he’d climbed on top of her. The echo of his breath in the cave. The trickle of a waterfall inside the cave somewhere in the distance.
Love for him swelled in her heart. She could no longer deny her feelings or that she wanted to be with him.
She’d wanted to cry out his name in the throes of passion, to murmur erotic words to him the way he had done to her during the night. She opened her mouth, wanting to whisper her love, wanting to wake him with the sound of her voice.
The stunning reality of that thought made her pause. Could she speak if she wanted? It had been so many years, would her speech sound childlike and garbled? Had she let her fears keep her a prisoner of silence all these years?
Lifting a hand to trace his bare chest, she felt the familiar stir of heat and desire rise within her. Now that daylight dawned, would he love her the way he had the night before? No. They needed to move on. To find Denise.
She stared at his features, memorizing each one— the hard planes and angles of his face, the way his lips parted in sleep, the way his broad shoulders and strong arms held her tightly, the puckered scar on the lower left side near his shoulder, the thick hair on his chest, tapering down to cup his sex, the strong muscles in his thighs and calves.
She swallowed, summoning the courage to say his name, when his eyes slowly opened. Dark lashes framed the near-black irises as he scrubbed his hand across his beard-stubbled jaw. But his expression reeked of regret, dousing water on the flame of her desire, and her courage waned.
And somewhere in the back of her mind, she heard the distinct sound of Denise crying again. This time the sound haunted her, the low cry sounding frail and weak as if she had given up.
“WE SHOULDN’T HAVE done that,” Adam said, bracing himself for the disappointment he’d find in Sarah’s eyes when he distanced himself this morning. But he had to distance himself. Last night, he’d gotten too damn close.
He’d almost lost his heart.
Something a good cop couldn’t do or he’d get sidetracked and mess up.
She arched a fine brow, wariness in her eyes, then mouthed, “No.”
“No, what? No, it wasn’t a mistake?” Anger got the better of him as he moved away from her and stood. “Yes, it was, Sarah. For God’s sakes, us being together, it’s just the danger, the tension. We both needed a release.”
She flinched as if he’d slapped her and he realized he must sound cold, reducing their lovemaking to a physical need for release, but he couldn’t tell her the truth.
That he cared about her. That deep down inside, he wondered if he could make a relationship work, if she could be his wife and have his child. If they could lead a normal life.
But he didn’t know what normal was anymore. Another woman had died because he’d let his emotions sidetrack him from his job. Could he live with himself if he allowed that to happen again? And even if he did want Sarah, what could he offer her?
There were things he’d wanted when he was little, material things his family couldn’t afford, things Denise had wanted that they couldn’t pay for. Could he ask a child to understand that?
And what about security? It had been painful enough for him losing his parents as a teen. His job put him in danger every day—could he chance putting a son or daughter through that kind of life, where they never knew if their father would come home alive at night?
No, he couldn’t.
“Look, if you’re fantasizing about us having some kind of normal life, then think again. Cops make lousy money and even lousier husbands.”
She bit down on her lip.
“My job is my life, and it’s too damn dangerous for a woman like you to be involved with. We need to get going.”
He ignored the hurt in her expressive eyes.
“And there’s no telling what we might find today, Sarah. If your father is alive, or if your godfather had something to do with Denise’s disappearance, I’ll have to take them down.”
He grabbed his clothes and yanked on his jeans, unable to look at her naked body, the one he’d loved so thoroughly the night before.
“We need to hurry to get there before daylight,” he said.
He gritted his teeth when she reached for her clothes, and began to dress without arguing.
“See,” he said, bitterness filling his voice. “You can’t even talk to me. You’re afraid to, aren’t you, Sarah? You don’t trust me enough, right? Just like you didn’t trust me enough to tell me about the article. What kind of relationship is that?”
She jerked her clothes on, hurt shimmering in her tear-misted eyes
He turned away, knowing her silent surrender in the night had proven the opposite, that she did trust him, at least with her body. That they didn’t need words to communicate.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Sarah fought the hurt coursing through her at Adam’s dismissal. He’d accused her of being afraid. Last night, she’d sensed his need; his hunger for her went deeper than the physical. She’d sensed he was the one afraid, too afraid to get involved, too afraid to let himself love her.
Maybe she was wrong. After all, she was inexperienced, her own emotions swirling in a tailspin.
Adam had so much on his mind right now, she couldn’t add to his problems by acting like a helpless woman.
Maybe she would prove to him today that she wasn’t helpless. And hopefully, they could find Denise and end the pain of Denise’s cries ringing in her ears.
Squaring her shoulders, she fastened the last button on her blouse, accepted the bottle of water and granola bar from Adam and ate it in silence. He downed a snack also, then glanced at her, a wariness in his face that mirrored her own feelings.
No matter what had happened between them, they both wanted to see his sister alive.
“Sarah?”
She hesitated, wiping her mouth with her hand.
“I forgot to use protection last night,” his voice dropped. “I…if anything happens, let me know, okay?”
Anger slammed into her. They were communicating just fine—in fact, his message came through loud and clear. He’d take care of his responsibilities. Well, she didn’t want to be a responsibility. She wanted him to love her.
Maybe that was impossible.
Her own father certainly hadn’t loved her. How could a strong man like Adam?
He gave her a last tortured look. “Are you ready?”
She nodded angrily, then followed him outside.
THEY’D PROBABLY HIKED a mile across the island, past two security stands when the first shot rang out. Adam ducked, grabbed Sarah’s hand and began to run. Dodging bullets, they wove in and out of the thick brush, Adam’s heart pounding.
Another bullet zinged above their heads and he pulled Sarah into a thicket of trees, crouching down and waiting. Seconds later, footsteps pounded the sand, two male voices breaking the silence.
“Which way did they go?”
“I think they’re headed toward Building A.”
The footsteps came closer. Adam tore off a vine and stuck it out just as the two approached. The first man sprawled into the brush, the second let loose a round from a semiautomatic. Adam slammed him on the head with the butt of his gun. The man sputtered, then rolled back unconsciou
scond man ran up shooting, and Adam tackled him. They struggled, fighting for the guard’s gun, shots flying across the area, but Adam managed to karate chop him in the shoulder blades, then he knocked him unconscious.
Sarah grabbed a vine and helped him tie the men’s hands behind their backs. Adam dragged them into the brush, secured them to a tree, disarming them and throwing the machine-gun strap over his shoulder.
“Let’s go.”
He grabbed Sarah’s hand and lead her along, crossing the sandy terrain and weaving their way past another guard’s post until they reached the middle of the island.
There, amidst the shadow of a cluster of live oaks, sat the building where Sarah’s father had conducted his research. It was supposedly empty for renovation, but Adam saw a small light burning in the back of the building. Someone was inside.
He urged Sarah forward. But he froze when the blunt end of a gun pressed into his back.
The minute Adam spun around, his high kick connected with the guard’s gun. Sarah hit the ground in a dive. She covered her head with her hands and crawled to the building, dodging a spray of bullets as the gun soared through the air, releasing the first round.
Adam slammed his fist into the man’s face, sending him to his knees, then quickly knocked him unconscious. Pulse hammering, he ran to her.
“Hurry, let’s get inside.”
Thankfully, since the building was in the midst of renovation, the security system hadn’t been updated. Adam slipped inside, surveying the space, holding Sarah behind him. A wide room, obviously meant as a reception area, occupied the front with two long corridors to each side which he assumed would house offices and labs. The building had three floors but the dark rooms and lack of noise indicated they were empty.
Sarah crouched behind Adam, making as little sound as possible while he traveled down the first hall. Muffled voices drifted through the vacant space.
Adam pointed to the opposite corridor, and they inched through a hallway separating the two, scanning each room, but found nothing.
Finally, footsteps tapped on the hard linoleum floor from the back room. Sarah’s breath caught.
“Hell, where are they?” a man’s voice bellowed. “Dammit, find them and kill them. We’ve come too far to let everything blow up in our faces now!”
Sarah tensed at the sound of the voice. She’d heard the same husky timbre in the hospital, she was almost sure of it. But who did the voice belong to?
“Yes, sir,” a second voice said in a clipped tone.
Footsteps clicked on the hard floor, echoing in the silence. Adam motioned for her to stay behind him, pulled out his gun, and they headed toward the sounds.
ADAM SCANNED the long hallway. Offices were housed on the front end, two separate labs on the back. They had to be holding Denise there.
That is, if they had he
Moving slowly, he prayed he hadn’t made a mistake in bringing Sarah. A guard paced in front of the lab, armed and looking anxious. Only one guard?
He watched for several seconds, searching for the second man, but didn’t see him. He motioned for Sarah to stay put, crept forward, then lunged at the guard and took him out.
Seconds later, he grabbed the guard’s keys and unlocked the door. When he opened the door, the scent of alcohol and drugs assaulted him. A single dim light hung in the center of the vacant lab room, but in the corner on a low cot, he finally found his sister.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Sarah gasped at the sight of Denise’s pale face. She was lying so still, her arms tied down, her eyes closed. Was she alive?
Adam raced to her side and quickly checked her breathing. Relief filled his face when he turned to Sarah. “She’s got a pulse, but she’s been drugged.”
Sarah struggled to untie Denise’s arms while Adam gently patted her face. “Denise, honey, it’s me, Adam. Can you hear me?”
Sarah’s stomach convulsed when she didn’t respond.
“Denise, sweetie, wake up, we’ve got to get you out of here.”
Adam took over one arm and Sarah worked the other until they freed her hands. Sarah undid her feet while Adam curved his arm around Denise’s waist to help her sit up.
“Denise, wake up. We’ve got to leave.”
Slowly, her eyes opened, looking dazed as she stared at her brother.
“Adam?”
“Yeah, honey. We’re going to get you out of here.”
“They—they want my research,” Denise mumbled, slowly looking from Adam to Sarah.
“I know, honey. Who did this to you?”
“Tried to call for help,” Denise said, her words slurring. “In the hospital.”
“I know, sweetie.” Adam gestured toward Sarah. “This is Sarah Cutter. She heard you call out. We’ve been looking for you ever since.” Emotions caught in his voice and he dragged Denise into his arms. She hugged him back, collapsing against his chest she was so weak. Sarah swallowed back tears, thanking God that Denise was still alive.
Adam finally pulled back and brushed Denise’s tangled brown hair from her face. “Can you stand up, sis?”
Denise frowned. “I think so. What happened?”
“They drugged you. I need you to tell me everyone involved just as soon as we escape the island.”
“Island?”
“Yeah, they’ve been holding you in a vacant building on Nighthawk Island.”
Adam helped her slide from the bed, lacing his arm around her waist for support. Sarah fell into place on the other side, draping Denise’s arm over her shoulder to help. Together they walked toward the door, Denise’s feet dragging on the linoleum.
“Have to change the research,” Denise mumbled, pulling to a stop. “They told me to finish it here in seclusion, that a foreign government was after it, so they had to take me away.”
“But they drugged you at the hospital?”
“They told me a foreign agent tried to kidnap me, but Seaside Securities stopped them. At least that’s what they said. They claimed they brought me here to protect me while I finished the research.”
“They lied,” Adam said. “And after you finished, they planned to kill you.”
“I can’t believe they’d do this,” Denise whispered.
“Believe it, sis. It’s not the first time, either. A microbiologist named Jerome Simms died suspiciously four years ago. A week later, the center announced a major sale.”
“But why? I wouldn’t personally profit from selling my work?”
“My guess is that a competitor was working on something similar, and time was running out. So they decided to sell to a foreign market.”
“They didn’t want to wait on U.S. clinical trials,” Denise said, her voice stronger. “The foreign government doesn’t have as stringent requirements.”
Adam nodded.
“I got suspicious,” Denise admitted, rubbing at her head. “I started asking questions a couple of days ago, that’s the last thing I remember.”
“They drugged you. I’m so sorry, Neesie.”
“I have to change the research,” Denise said, looking more alert as she surveyed her surroundings. “I can’t let it fall into the wrong hands.”
“We will, but let’s get out of here.”
“No, the computer, help me to the computer over there.”
Adam hesitated, but Denise seemed so insistent, he finally helped her to the computer in the corner of the lab.
He stood over her shoulder while she accessed the files. Data spilled onto the screen, but his sister typed in several commands, quickly going through several pages of notes. Adam headed to the door to watch out, but before he made it, footsteps clicked outside. Two guards appeared at the door.
“Stop it right there, Dr. Harley. You’re all going with us.”
Adam gave Sarah a pain-filled look as the men aimed their guns at them, hauled them up and out the door.
Several tense minutes later, the guards ordered them to climb aboard a cruiser, then guided them into
a small cabin.
Sarah gasped when Sol and Arnold Hughes walked in, looking furious.
“You just couldn’t leave things alone, could you, Sarah?” Sol swiped at the perspiration trickling down his j his eyes ablaze with anger. “I begged you to stay out of this, to let it rest.”
Sarah stared at him in shock. No, she couldn’t believe it. Surely, Sol hadn’t done something as sinister as orchestrating Denise’s kidnapping.
Arnold Hughes gestured toward her godfather to sit down, aiming his gun at Sol. Sol was shaking, fear etched on his face as he dropped into a wooden chair by the table.
ADAM’S STOMACH CLENCHED at the pain on Sarah’s face. “So, you two were behind this whole thing?” Adam asked, hoping to stall long enough to come up with a plan for escape.
“The center needed the money,” Hughes said in a cold voice. “It was nothing personal, simply business.”
“It was my sister’s life,” Adam said through gritted teeth.
“And other people’s,” Denise added. “My work is not complete. It needs clinical trials.”
“We don’t have time for that, not with a competitor one step ahead. This was our only chance to get the sale.” Hughes’s hand tightened around the .38.
“Greed,” Adam said, shooting Sol a look of disdain. “And here you preached all that moralistic stuff about your research, wanting to help the world.”
“We do.” Sol rammed a nervous hand through his thinning hair. “But we have to consider the bigger picture.”
“And Jerome Simms—I suppose he didn’t fit into that picture?”
“That was a most unfortunate accident,” Hughes said with a leer. He turned to Denise. “And if your brother hadn’t started asking questions and raising suspicions all over the place, and Ms. Cutter hadn’t butted her nose into things, there wouldn’t be any need for this to end this way.”