“I know. You must regain your strength as soon as possible and clear your name.”
“Aye, but there’s another reason I need to regain my strength and it doesn’t require running after Sutherland.”
A sly grin surfaced on his tired face and his hand started up her riding skirt to stroke her inner thigh. She gasped in surprise and melted against him, waiting for him to continue, but he didn’t. “I’m afraid that’s all the fun you’re going to get for now,” was his apologetic admission.
“Then you’d best be swallowing your elixir right away.” Teasing emerald sparkles glowed in her eyes when she reached for the bottle.
~~~
“The son of a bitch has kidnapped her! He stole her out from under your men’s very noses!” Jock stalked the parlor, his face blazed with crimson fury. Constable Vickers and Magistrate Anderson could only stand in sheepish silence.
“We’re at a loss as to how Mrs. Flynn was taken away…” Anderson began but immediately quieted beneath Jock’s mask of rage.
“Get out, get out, both of you, and take your flunkies with you! My stationhands are better watchdogs than the lot of you.” Jock slammed the front door behind them with such vehemence that the windows shook.
“God, where is she?” he cried, and threw himself in an armchair. He should be searching for Eden, but it was too dark to see now. But by the morning’s first light, he’d head out and find her by himself. He blamed the bumbling law enforcement officers for this. They were to be watching the house, keeping a sharp eye to make certain Eden didn’t run away or that Alexander gained entrance. But she was gone just the same. How in the hell had she escaped with Alexander?
Or had she escaped on her own?
That possibility hadn’t dawned upon Jock until this second. Had she learned about Alexander’s shooting and sneaked off to find him? He wouldn’t put it past her to have found a way out of the house. But how had she left the property without anyone seeing her? The guards had told him the townspeople had dispersed shortly after he and the posse had ridden off that afternoon. No one was seen either entering or leaving High Winds except for Tiku and Marjorie. And Jock had told them good-bye himself.
Or had he?
He now remembered the incident clearly. There was something about the way Marjorie had acted. She didn’t speak or look directly at him when he asked her why she wore the shawl so near to her face. Tiku had been more rigid than usual. Jock realized something wasn’t right and had gone to question his sister but had been interrupted by the secretary-general. For the next hour and a half he’d been forced to give an accounting of Alexander’s shooting and what precautions were being taken to secure the countryside. The secretary and his wife left soon afterward, relieved to return to Wellington and civilization. Jock had begun to fear the shooting and the confusion afterward might eventually cost him the governorship.
If not for the lengthy exchange, he’d have realized earlier that Eden was gone. But when had she left? Could she have sneaked away while he was out hunting down Alexander? No, Nonnie had said Eden was in her room with Marjorie the whole time. Then had she left while he spoke to the secretary-general? No, of course not. Someone would have seen her leave and according to the magistrate, no one had left the property during this time.
So that meant one thing. Eden had left the house and been clearly observed doing it. That hadn’t been Marjorie in the buggy beside Tiku at all. It had been Eden!
~~~
“Where’s my sister?” Jock bellowed at the top of his lungs and went to the kitchen in search of Nonnie. The Maori woman would know where Marjorie was, he had no doubt. Tiku was her son, and apparently she didn’t give a damn if he despoiled an Englishwoman.
But it wasn’t Nonnie he found in the kitchen, seated at the table and calmly sipping a cup of tea. It was Marjorie.
“Shall I pour you some tea?” she asked, smiling at him.
With his back against the door, he peered intently at her and scowled. “So, you’ve tricked me. Should I congratulate you?”
“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”
“Lying, fornicating bitch! You know damn well you helped Eden to escape with your savage. Now where is she? Tell me where she is or I’ll—”
“Kill me? Is that what you’ll do to me, Jock?” Marjorie stood and raised herself to her full height. “Will you murder your own sister? But, yes, I think you might consider it. I’ve heard that after the first one or two killings, murder becomes easier. Is that true?”
Jock eyed her cockily. “Don’t think to blackmail me with that absurd business about Bert’s death. No one would believe you.”
“I’m not thinking so much about Bert but of Tessa. Tiku and I saw you on the road the other night, very near where Tessa’s body was found. And Ice was racing down the road like a windstorm. Constable Vickers and the magistrate might be interested in what we saw, but I trust you can explain your presence at Thunder Mine, Jock.”
His face lost all color, and for just an instant Marjorie saw panic flare within his eyes. Then a guarded expression crossed his features. “I offer no explanation other than I took a late-night ride.”
“So near to where Tessa was found. Did you hear or see anyone, anything suspicious?”
“You are the little inquisitor, aren’t you?”
Marjorie sighed and her voice broke. “You killed Tessa.”
Jock nonchalantly examined his fingernails. “No one would believe your outrageous tale, my dear. What credibility can you, a woman who sleeps with a savage, offer?”
“I’m honest and everyone knows it. Everyone also knows how much I love you. I have no reason to want you harmed, so why wouldn’t I be believed? I suggest you turn yourself over to the authorities.”
“Marjorie, you’re a simpleton and a pathetic cripple.” He laughed, seeing her wince. “I’ve tolerated you all these years because you were my sister, but as of this second, I disown you. I never want to see you again.”
“I pity you, Jock. You’ve lost everything.”
“I’ve lost nothing, but I’ll have it all when I find Eden.”
He stalked from the kitchen, leaving Marjorie a trembling mass of emotions. Jock might be her brother, and she’d always love him, but she knew what she had to do.
~~~
Damon was much better two days later. Eden diligently tended to his wound, cleaning it and changing the bandages which Tiku had left. He was even able to move his arm without grimacing in pain. “It’s loosening up a bit,” he said, grinning at her as she bent industriously over him. “You’re the best nurse a man could ever want—and the best medicine.” His hand brushed against her breast.
“Don’t be so cheeky or I’ll have to slap you.”
“Cheeky, am I? I’m thinking more like stinky. I need a washing, Eden, and the lagoon is just waiting for me.”
Eden looked at him, a doubtful expression in her eyes. Damon’s fever had broken yesterday morning, but she worried he’d have a relapse if he went into the water too soon. But the day was warm and dry and the flesh on his naked chest was cool to her touch—and he was in desperate need of a bathing. “All right. I give you permission to bathe.”
“Thank you, Mum, I do appreciate it,” he whispered in jest, and placed a feather-light kiss on her lips. It was meant to be a playful kiss, but the instant their mouths touched, the pressure deepened. Desire shot right through Eden and she smothered a groan against his lips. Damon wasn’t in any condition for the sort of play she had in mind.
She broke away and cleared her throat, glancing at the lagoon. “You better get your bath.”
“Then I’ll need some help undressing.”
“Oh, yes, you do, but that’s all, Damon. Don’t get any other ideas. You aren’t entirely recovered yet.”
“What sort of ideas would those be?” he innocently queried, his face appearing guileless.
“If you haven’t thought of any, then I won’t put them into your head.” With her attentio
n riveted on unbuttoning Damon’s trousers and working them down his long legs, she moved her gaze to that part of him which was large and hard. “It seems you’ve thought up some ideas of your own.”
“Aye, and they’re not all in my head.” Damon pulled her toward him with his good arm and Eden didn’t resist. He trailed hot, stirring kisses along her face and neck to seek the valley between her breasts. “Wouldn’t you like to take off your shirtwaist?” he invited in such a husky voice Eden’s body felt like jelly.
“But you’re not well yet, I don’t want to get you riled up—’’
“I’m good enough for a man who survived a bullet wound,” he contended. “And, woman, you’ve already riled me, so do the honorable and decent thing by having your wicked way with me. There’s only so much teasing I can stand.”
“I’ve never teased you.”
Damon nuzzled the lush valley. “But you have,” she heard him say. “You teased me into wanting you from the first second I saw you. Those greenstone eyes teased me into giving you my heart. And now you’ve taken my soul from me, too. Eden, I love you.”
Damon held her by the waist and she knelt before him. When he looked up at her, she nearly cried because she suddenly knew she could never have married Jock, even if he hadn’t turned out to be such a monster. She’d always belonged to Damon. For the rest of their lives, they might have to run because of something Damon hadn’t done. But they’d be together—and that was all she’d ever wanted.
Sliding down the length of him, she began to unbutton her shirtwaist and riding skirt. With Damon’s assistance, she was finally naked and clasped within the circle of his arm. Tenderly he settled her hair around her shoulders and smiled a melting smile, filled with love and desire. “This is how I always see you in my mind, with your hair all tousled and gleaming like a sunset, your naked body quivering against me. And I’m a happy man because you belong to me, wild Eden.”
“Oh, Damon, I love you so.”
As one, they stood up and waded into the lagoon where they washed each other and kissed until passion won out.
Leading her out of the water, Damon fell beside her on the soft ferns. His mouth touched hers in a crushing kiss which tore the very breath from her. Eden felt herself opening to him, body, mind, and soul. Her heart hammered against her rib cage as his hands swept over her breasts, her waist, her thighs, then came to rest between her legs. Damon wanted to touch all of her at once, and she lost herself in the same frenzied wanting.
He groaned in pleasure as her hands explored him, sliding across his chest and down the lean expanse of flank until her silken fingers closed around his throbbing, warm shaft. “Eden my love, I’m aflame already. Don’t do that.” But it was too late, for she stroked him with long, leisurely strokes, reveling in the unabashed ecstasy on his face. Finally when he was in such an aroused state that the end to his tender torture would be swift, Damon grabbed her by the waist and pulled her atop him. “Ride, my wild Eden, ride,” he coaxed in a ragged whisper that burned at her core.
She sheathed him with the hot glove of her femininity, straddling him as he held her hips in place to meet his thrusts with a downward plunge of her own. The very heavens opened to her with each of Damon’s tormenting strokes. She felt her body melting upon his engorged manhood, rushing toward fulfillment. So long a time had passed since they last made love.
Damon, too, was on the precipice. He held her tightly and began a swift rhythm which threatened to undo her. Then he suddenly grew still and arched toward her in one glorious possessive thrust. Eden fell into a star-filled chasm the second she felt his hot, throbbing release and barely realized Damon had captured her mouth to quiet her cry of wanton pleasure.
Afterward, she lay in the crook of his arm while he stared down at her, his hand gently massaging her stomach. She felt so wonderful, so alive and loved. For the moment she could forget that Damon was a hunted man. She began to drift into sleep when Damon’s voice brought her back to instant wakefulness.
“When are you going to tell me you’re having a child?”
Damon, as always, had taken her unawares. She’d meant to tell him but had never found the right moment. It seemed now was the perfect time, if only he didn’t stare at her with those eyes which were now a darkened shade of blue, expressing his dismay.
“I wanted to wait until things were more settled.”
“Were you ever going to tell me? You would have been married to Sutherland and having my child—at least I assume it’s mine.”
“Yes, Damon, the baby is yours. And to be honest, I didn’t ever want you to know about it. You were married and already had a son. There was no need to burden you with my baby.”
“Our baby,” he emphasized. Damon rapidly blinked away tears, and Eden knew she had hurt him deeply.
She wrapped her arms around him. “Forgive me, but I couldn’t tell you. I expected to leave New Zealand by myself. Jock blackmailed me into agreeing to marry him. I told you why.”
“But Jock knew about the baby?” He gave a short, raspy laugh at her nod. “What a perfect revenge against me. He’d marry the woman I loved and would raise my child.”
Eden stared into his eyes, fear filling her own. “Have I lost you again?”
A deep, shuddering sigh ripped through him, but he clamped his arms about her in an iron grip. “Never, my beauty. I don’t like that you didn’t want to tell me about our baby, but I can understand your reluctance. But I need your forgiveness, too.”
“You have that already.”
“And you?”
“And me.”
“Then all we need is Collin with us and for me to clear my name to be at peace.”
“Damon, you’re not thinking of going after Jock—”
“Aye,” he answered in such a bone-chilling tone that she feared it would be foolhardy to try to stop him.
Chapter 25
“So you’re certain about these facts, Mrs. Carruthers. Before his death your late husband admitted that Mr. Sutherland wished him killed?” Constable Vickers sat across from Marjorie, his hands on his desk, while Magistrate Anderson stood nearby.
“Yes. Bert was quite certain of it. My brother wanted Bert’s property and forced me into marriage with him. Then, if Bert died, the property would revert to me. Jock, however, offered to buy Kia Ora from me after Bert’s death and I refused.” A wracking sigh shook Marjorie’s shoulders. “I didn’t want to believe my brother was capable of such a crime, but now I do.”
“Why? Is there something else you need to tell me?”
She swallowed hard, and tears welled within her eyes. “The night of Tessa Alexander’s death, Tiku and I were coming from town. We noticed a rider ahead of us shoot out of the forest, near where Tessa’s body was found. We both recognized the rider as my brother.”
“Couldn’t you have been mistaken?”
“No, sir. He was riding Ice, my brother’s white stallion, and no one can control the horse but Jock. I confronted him with what we saw and he told me no one would believe me. I know Jock killed Mrs. Alexander but is making it look as if her husband did it. He wanted to marry Eden Flynn, but she was in love with Damon Alexander, and this was Jock’s way of getting rid of him.”
“Why didn’t your brother just kill the man instead of the woman?” asked the magistrate.
Marjorie shook her head sadly. “Jock detests Mr. Alexander and wants him to suffer. You must believe me.” Her eyes implored them and her voice broke. “I … don’t want to harm my brother, but justice must be done. Mr. Alexander is innocent of the crime.”
Both men glanced in concern at each other and told Marjorie they’d investigate the matter. After she left the office, Vickers leaned back in his chair. “What do you think?” he asked Anderson.
Anderson rubbed his chin in thought. “I think Sutherland has gotten too big for his trousers and needs to be brought down a number of pegs. After Mrs. Flynn’s escape from High Winds, and with the secretary-general in residence, we’
ve looked like complete bunglers. Can’t do any harm to investigate Mrs. Carruthers’s claims.”
“You’re correct,” agreed Vickers, and grabbed for his hat. “And you know what? I think Sutherland killed Alexander’s wife and should be tried for her murder. Just let the bloody bastard make us out to be fools in front of his fancy friends when he’s brought to trial in Wellington. I could write quite an informative book about some of his unscrupulous dealings. I’ve overlooked them in the past, but no more, Anderson. No more.”
With that determined comment hanging in the air, Vickers put on his hat and went to round up his men for the ride to High Winds.
~~~
“Damon, please reconsider going after Jock. There’s nothing to be gained by it. We can get Collin and run away to America or Europe. No one will ever find us.” Eden’s pleading fell upon deaf ears. Damon had made up his mind.
“I’m not running forever,” he pronounced and loaded his pistol. “We’d have no life. I want better than that for you and Collin—and the new baby.”
At the sight of the gun, Eden’s eyes widened. “Are you going to shoot Jock?”
“Not if I can help it. I want to bring the bastard into the constable alive and only hope he confesses.”
Throwing her arms around his neck, Eden sobbed into his shirtfront. “I don’t want to lose you. I love you.”
Holding her close, Damon smiled down into her hair. “I’m too much in love with you to consider being killed.”
They walked hand in hand as they meandered through the forest. Terror clutched at Eden’s heart to imagine what waited for Damon on the other side. He was doing the honorable thing, she knew that. But she remembered what Jock had screamed at her about honor. Damon was an honorable man, Jock wasn’t; he played by his own rules.
They’d gone half the distance when Damon stopped short and poised the pistol at a movement within a cluster of bushes. Eden tensed but breathed a relieved sigh when Tiku appeared. “You gave me a start,” Damon chided, and lowered the gun.
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