What a Woman Wants

by Tori Carrington

  Her arms filled, she inched open the door to the girls’ room. There were four bedrooms, enough for each of them to have her own room, but they preferred to share, unquestionably connected by that special bond that twins are said to have. The light from the hall fell across the beds, revealing that the girls were in the same positions they had been in when she’d last checked. Darby stood there for a long moment, gazing at them. She knew how John’s exit that morning had affected her. She could only imagine what it had done to the girls.

  Despite all their inventive attempts to alienate John, there was no doubt in Darby’s mind that they loved him. Always had. What was there not to love? His pursuing dangerous criminals had to bring the loss of their father back to them as much as it did to her.

  Darby quietly closed the door and then walked down the hall to her room, dumping the contents of her arms on top of her bed. Her big, forlorn-looking, empty bed. One by one, she put the items she’d brought upstairs away, then fingered through the videos she had under the television across from the bed, searching for something to take her mind off her fears. Finding a romantic comedy, she pushed the button to eject the tape that was in there. She slid the video out and glanced at the label, her breath catching when she realized it was home video footage of Erick that she had watched endlessly in the weeks following his death. Her fingers tightened around the cold plastic as if touching something he had touched might bring a direct connection with him, through which he could tell her what she should do, where she should go from there. A line through which she could tell him how very sorry she was for having betrayed him with his best friend.

  Moisture blurring her vision, she slid the video into its case, fingering the raised lettering she’d used to label it. Moments later she forced herself to put it with the other videos. The long row toppled over like a line of dominoes, revealing a handheld two-way radio just behind them.

  How odd. It looked just like one of a pair Erick had given to the girls for their birthday. She picked up the fluorescent-blue radio, finding the talk button pushed all the way in and the radio on. She released the button, then turned the power switch off and shook out the dead batteries. How long had it been there? There was no possible way for her to tell. She replaced the batteries with a pair she found in the nightstand drawer, then put it on top where she immediately forgot it. Instead, she reached for the phone, began dialing the number for John’s office, then disconnected halfway through. He had enough to worry about without adding her concerns to the list. Instead, she wondered where he was right now, whether he’d eaten the dinner she’d taken him, and if he had thought about her at all throughout the day. On the heels of those thoughts came the memories of their activities in the barn. She swallowed thickly, then stretched across her big, empty bed, wishing he was there.

  Even if she could never marry John, the connection between them was undeniable. A link she couldn’t seem to sever no matter how hard she tried. It existed on a physical level, but also went much, much deeper. Deeper than she could ever hope to reach and rip out. She felt him all the way down to her bones. Heard his sexy chuckle when he wasn’t around. Saw his handsome grin whenever she closed her eyes.

  She turned her head restlessly, looking for the television remote control. Thinking about him wasn’t going to make the waiting any easier. But instead of the remote, her gaze was drawn again to the walkie-talkie. Absently she reached out and switched it on. She wondered why neither of the girls had said anything about it being missing.

  She stared at the ceiling, listening to the quiet hissing of the radio, searching for some sort of pattern in the white noise.

  “Daddy? Daddy, this is Lindy. Please answer me, Daddy.”

  Darby was so startled she shot up off the bed, her heart thudding wildly. She recognized the quiet desperation in her daughter’s voice, the unmistakable sadness.

  “Daddy?” A soft sniffle. “Why won’t you talk to me anymore? I’m sorry if I was a bad girl. I promise, I’ll never be bad again.”

  Darby fumbled for the radio, nearly knocking it from the bedside table as she picked it up and turned the volume down. “Daddy, when are you coming back? Erin and me need you.”

  Dear Lord. Darby’s heart gave such a tremendous squeeze she nearly sobbed aloud. She remembered Erin’s outburst when she’d overheard John’s first proposal. Her insistence that her father was coming back. Both twins’ refusal to discuss the matter with her.

  Obviously they thought they could communicate with Erick through the radio.

  She caught her breath as she put the pieces together. The radio being on and stuck behind the videos under the television in the talk position. Her watching home footage of Erick over and over again many a night after his death. Apparently at some point the girls must have had their radio on and heard their father’s voice filter through the tiny speaker, thinking he was trying to communicate with them.

  She stared at the tiny object. Until the batteries went dead.

  How long had the twins been trying to talk to their father? And how had she gone so long without knowing what they were doing?

  “Daddy?” She heard the tears in Lindy’s voice. “Daddy, please say something to me.”

  Gripping the radio so tightly in her hands she was afraid she might break it, Darby grappled for what to do. She turned toward the door, but it seemed to take Herculean effort to force herself to walk toward it and tiptoe into and down the hall. A turn of a knob and the door to the twins’ room opened. Erin was still sound asleep. But Lindy’s bed was now empty, the sheets showing the outline of where her small body had been. Darby touched the soft cotton, finding it still warm, then looked under the beds. Not there. She checked under the desk, then beside the bookcase, then came to a stop before the closet.

  “I love you, Daddy,” Lindy’s muffled, sobbing voice filtered through the thick wood.

  Darby tore the door open and dropped to her knees, gathering a sobbing Lindy into her aching arms. “Oh, baby. I’m so, so sorry.”

  Chapter Eleven

  John was still questioning whether he should have gone to his trailer, instead of to Darby’s. It was three o’clock in the morning. He was no closer to finding the two fugitives than he’d been when he’d gotten the call this morning. His head felt so heavy he could barely hold it upright. He’d finally been forced to hand the search off to his deputies and local and state police for a few hours of much-needed shut-eye. The moment he decided that, all he’d been able to think about was getting to Darby. Seeing her again. Knowing that she and the twins were all right.

  He walked around the living room of the old farmhouse, switching off lights as he went. The house looked warm and inviting, not like everyone was asleep. But the absence of sound told him everyone probably was.

  He slipped off his shoes and put them on the steps, then climbed to the second floor. A check of the twins found them both tucked in and sleeping. He eyed the door slightly ajar at the end of the hall, the door to Darby’s room. The light was on in there. Glancing toward the guest bedroom, he headed instead toward the light.

  The lightest push with his hand made the door swing open and allowed him to gaze upon the woman who had occupied his thoughts ceaselessly today. She was still fully dressed and curled up on her side on top of the covers. He dared to step closer and saw her clutching what looked like one of those kid’s walkie-talkies. He frowned and eased it from her hand, turning it over, then putting it on the table beside the bed.

  Damn, but she was beautiful. Her curly brown hair lay in soft waves on the snow-white pillow behind her, a stray lock curving against her cheek. He reached out and brushed it aside with the back of his knuckles, marveling at the butter softness of her skin. Flawless. Perfect. Just like the woman herself.

  Occasionally his brothers joked about their spouses’ many flaws. When John protested, they always felt compelled to warn him. “Just wait until you get married. You’ll see what we’re talking about.” Only after a few days with Darby, he had
yet to figure out what they meant. He couldn’t imagine seeing any flaw in the woman lying asleep across the bed.

  He gently sat down on the mattress, careful not to wake her. He just needed to hold her. Once. Feel her body next to his. He promised himself he wouldn’t do it for long. He intended to honor her request that they not sleep together in the house. Well, at least he’d be honorable while she was unconscious. It was, after all, the gentlemanly thing to do.

  Problem was, he wasn’t feeling real gentlemanly right now. He was feeling selfish. He wanted to feel her body snuggled close to his. Breathe in the sweet scent of her hair. Press his lips to her silken skin.

  And that was exactly what he did. He stretched out, moving the bed as little as possible, and slid toward her. Darby seemed to sense his heat and shifted the remainder of the way, making a soft humming sound as she curled up to his side, laying her head on his shoulder.

  John stayed as still as possible, afraid she might wake up and realize what he’d done and send him away. When she didn’t, he pressed his hand against her back. She made a soft sound and tilted her head. Now he could see directly into her face. He eyed her moist lips. Her smooth brow. Then caught a glimpse of faint streaks under her eyes. Had she been crying? He guessed she had. He groaned and held her closer.

  He was surprised by the pain he felt at the thought of her hurting for any reason. She shifted again, then her green eyes blinked open. He held his breath, watching her gaze at him with sleepy eyes. Then she gave him the faintest of smiles and closed her eyes again.

  John swallowed hard. Oh, boy. While he’d always known he’d felt something…different for Darby Parker Conrad, he’d had no idea of the breadth and depth of it. But now it consumed him, filling him to over-flowing. Made him feel a part of something, yet adrift. But was what he felt love? What he felt was so complicated he was afraid it would take him a lifetime to figure it out.

  He carefully shifted the woman at his side, reached for a blanket at the foot of the bed and covered them both. He only hoped Darby would agree to give him that lifetime.

  He settled back and closed his eyes, absorbing everything that was Darby, her scent, her body, her spirit. He’d only lie there for a few moments. Just enough to drink in his fill of her, he told himself.

  Then the world faded to black.

  Darby awoke slowly, feeling magnificently reluctant to do so. Her dreams were filled with images of lying next to John, his warm body touching hers, his arms holding her. She opened her eyes and gazed out the window just as the sun was breaking the horizon, and realized she hadn’t been dreaming. John was next to her. Or, more accurately, behind her, his body spooned around hers. Before she allowed panic to settle in, she snuggled a little more firmly against him, covering his hand where it was draped across her hip with hers. This, she could definitely get used to.

  The sound of movement in the other room brought her eyes open again. The twins.

  Her heart gave a painful squeeze before she could even recall the incident with the two-way radio. Dear, poor Lindy. Her little girl had been sobbing her heart out all alone in that closet, gripping the radio in her hands as if her life depended on her contacting her father. Darby hadn’t known what to say. So instead, she’d gathered her trembling daughter’s body against hers and just held her.

  They both sat on that cold closet floor for nearly an hour. Darby rocking, moved beyond words. And what could she have said? She didn’t think reminding her daughter that her daddy was gone and wasn’t coming back would have helped at that moment. Especially if what she suspected was correct and the girls had heard Erick’s voice via the videotape through the radio after she’d told them of his death. She would have to figure out something to do, some action to take. But just then she’d needed to reassure Lindy that she loved her. And that her daddy had loved her. That she hadn’t done anything wrong, wasn’t the cause of his death or his eternal silence.

  She reluctantly moved to slide from John’s warm embrace only to feel his grip on her hip tighten, refusing her escape. She turned her head and found him gazing at her calmly.

  “You’re awake,” she said.

  “So are you.”

  She settled back in against him, turning her head away. She heard the sound of the toilet flushing down the hall, followed by footsteps moving away from her door. She guessed that one of the girls had used the bathroom and was stumbling back to her room.

  “What time did you get in last night?”

  “Three o’clock this morning.”

  She bit her bottom lip, trying to suppress the desire to ask him for answers he might not be willing to give.

  “We didn’t catch them,” he said.

  Darby was surprised by the volunteered information.

  “At least not by the time I knocked off to catch a few z’s. I should call in and check the status of the situation.”

  He said the words, but made no move to implement them.

  Darby found herself smiling. She wriggled her backside purposefully into his front, pleased by his immediate, undeniable reaction.

  “I could make you some breakfast,” she whispered.

  He hummed, his hand leaving her hip and wandering over her abdomen, then down to tunnel into the V of her legs. The movement seemed so natural, so right, that her breath caught.

  Oh, how wonderful it would be just to give herself over to the desire pulsing through her body like a powerful drug. To roll over and kiss John until her thirst for his mouth was somehow sated. Take his flesh into hers and make love to him until she could go no more.

  John rubbed his stubble-dotted chin against her hair. “What will the girls say if they walk in and find us this way?”

  “I don’t know,” she admitted. “But I know they won’t be happy.”

  He began to roll away from her.

  “No,” she whispered, clamping her thighs around his hand and holding him close with her own hand. “Please. Just a few more minutes. This…this feels good.”

  She heard his thick swallow. “Darby—” his voice held warning “—if you don’t let me get up this minute, we’ll be doing more than just lying here together, I promise you.”

  Oh, how good that sounded.

  She reluctantly released him and he rolled to the other side of the bed and got to his feet. She propped herself up on her elbows and watched him.

  He still wore the same jeans and shirt from the day before. She realized she wore the same clothes, as well.

  “Lindy was trying to talk to Erick on her two-way,” she said quietly, not quite knowing why she’d told him but somehow needing to tell him. Needing to share the significant moment with someone who was growing in importance to her.

  John’s movements ceased, his gaze questioning.

  She looked down at her stomach. “I was straightening up in here when I found the other radio. I changed the batteries and switched it on. I nearly hit the ceiling when I heard her.”

  John sat back down on the mattress as if no longer able to stand. “Good Lord.”

  Darby tried to even her breathing. “I know.”

  “That’s why you were crying.” He glanced over his shoulder at her. “Did you talk to her?”

  She shook her head. “No. I found her where she was hiding in the closet and just held her. I…I didn’t know what else to do.”

  John ran his hands through his hair several times. Then he reached out, resting a strong, long-fingered hand against her blanket-covered leg. She put her hand on top of it, filled with gratitude that he was there to help her shoulder the burden, act as a sympathetic ear.

  He glanced at her. “Do you want me to try to talk to her?”

  She shook her head. “I think she sees you as trying to take Erick’s place, so I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”

  Silence reigned as they sat there, individually considering the situation.

  Darby squeezed his hand. “I’m going to take the girls to church this morning, then we’re going to spend the
afternoon at Jolie’s painting eggs for Easter.”

  He nodded, leaving unsaid what he would be doing. He would be doing his job. And that included hunting down two very dangerous men.

  She looked up to find him watching her carefully. “Will you be okay?” he asked.

  She smiled. “Yeah. You?”

  That got a grin from him.

  She sighed. “Oh, yeah. I forgot. We’re talking about the big ol’ strong sheriff here. Of course you’ll be fine.”

  “I take offense at the old part.”

  “I said ol’, not old.”

  “We’ll settle that later. I’ll try to make it home for dinner. I’ll call and let you know.”

  Home. How very right the word sounded to her coming from his handsome mouth.

  He leaned across the bed, bringing that same mouth even with hers. She put a hand over her mouth, afraid she had morning breath. He grinned and moved her hand away. “Trust me, it can’t be as bad as the goat’s.”

  She laughed and he kissed her.

  “Marry me, Darby,” he whispered, his hazel eyes dark and somber as he rested his nose against hers.

  She forced herself to stop smiling. “You know, I’m supposed to be scaring you away from the prospect of marrying me, not encouraging you.”

  “I think you should just give in now.”

  Longing to do just that filled her, thickened her blood. “A little smug, aren’t you?”

  “No,” he said, shaking his head, their noses still touching. “Just hopeful.”

  Warmth, sure and strong, flooded Darby’s limbs, making her feel like a teenager again experiencing her first crush. That that crush even then had been on the man gazing at her right now…well, she refused to see that as kismet. Too much had happened since then.