by Adrianne Lee
“Unfortunately, I don’t know. She said she’d sent a copy of the pages to a girlfriend. Someone who would forward them to a male friend, should anything happen to us, and that man would see to it that Marshall was investigated.”
Chad wondered if he was the man Kayleen had intended would investigate Marshall. If so, why hadn’t she contacted him before she’d run? His conscience nudged him. All right, he could guess why she hadn’t. Then again, maybe she’d met someone else—someone she meant to marry as soon as she received her healthy divorce settlement.
Surprisingly, that prospect didn’t bother him as it might have a while back—didn’t bother him at all. “So, we don’t know what was in the journal and we don’t know who the mystery lady was who didn’t do anything about those pages.”
“That’s about the size of it.” She looked as dejected as he felt.
He covered her hand with his own. “If we just had an idea when the journal was written, maybe—”
“I do know that.” Barbara tilted her head. “It was a college journal.”
Chad grinned. “It’s not much, but it gives us a starting point. I’ll have Bonze check into the paper’s morgue and see if there were any scandals at the university at or around the time Marshall attended college.”
“He won’t be happy if you find something. All he really cares about is his career. Not that he strove to be a good doctor. Just a wealthy and powerful one.”
Chad twitched. Barbara’s opinion of her former brotherin-law sounded like a duplicate of Kayleen’s description of the man, and a mirror of his own assessment: shallow and ambitious. But it seemed Kayleen hadn’t disliked her husband’s money as much as she’d claimed. It dawned on Chad that he hadn’t known her as well as he’d thought.
And what of Marshall Emerson? Kayleen had feared he would murder her. But had he? Chad had been so certain two days ago. Now he wasn’t so sure. Being shallow and ambitious didn’t make a man a killer—especially a man who’d taken an oath to save lives. Still, he supposed Marshall could have hired Dean Ray Staples to do the dirty deed. But how would he have known where to send the man?
Chad shook his head. He had to be certain. The more he was around Missy, the more fond of her he became. She needed a father who cherished her. If Marshall Emerson was that kind of person, as well as an innocent man, then he deserved a chance with his daughter.
But what about Barbara? In every respect, she was Missy’s mother.
Barbara touched him between the eyebrows. “I thought this lead would please you, but you’re scowling.”
“I was thinking about Missy and you. I know it’s irrational, but I feel somehow responsible for this awful mess with Emerson.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “I’d say that sounds more egotistical than irrational. I had already begun remembering when we met, Chad. The truth was already bearing down on me.”
His cocoa no longer tasted sweet on his tongue, but bitter. “Maybe I should have let you run away the other night.”
“What?” She gaped at him. “Why are you waffling on an issue that you believe in with all your heart?”
He shrugged. But he knew it was because he also believed in Barbara and Missy with all his heart. Believed they belonged together. “This situation is impossible. I can’t stand you and Missy getting hurt.”
She reached out and stroked his cheek. “You can’t prevent it, either, Chad. But you’ve made it a little easier to bear.”
He kissed her palm, then her wrist, lifted his gaze to hers, his hand reaching up to touch her hair, graze her cheek. Need pooled hot and quick in his groin. “You’ve had a hell of a day. Maybe you should call it a night.”
“No. I don’t want to go to bed.” Hunger gleamed in her eyes. “Not alone. Not tonight.”
Chad groaned. “Don’t say that unless you mean it. I can barely keep my distance from you now.”
“No one’s asking you to,” she crooned in throaty invitation.
“Are you sure?” His own voice sounded gravelly.
She grinned wickedly at him. “I can honestly say for the first time in five years, I’m positive.”
A smile tugged at his mouth and seemed to sweep the length of him, warming every cell in his body. He rose and pulled her out of the chair and into his arms, need spiraling hard inside him as her lush curves pressed against the length of him. At first it was enough just to hold her, his hands skimming over her back, her bottom; but soon he ached with need, his hunger for her obvious to them both.
She lifted her face to his, her glorious aqua eyes full of trusting, yearning. He cupped her cheeks in his hands, then brushed his lips over hers gently, again and again, with the tender thoroughness of a honeybee gathering nectar from a budding orchid, savoring the flavor of her as she opened to him, welcoming his tongue inside her, thrusting her tongue into his mouth.
Impatience swept him and he reached for the hem of her sweater. She pulled back. “Not here. Missy.”
Still kissing, they moved awkwardly into her bedroom and closed the door. A burning candle sat on the nightstand, its single glow filling the room with the softest of lights and the gentlest of rosy scents, like the dusk of a summer evening in a secret lovers’ garden. Somewhere intimate. Inaccessible. Locked away from the world and its cares.
Chad reached for her again, resuming his sensual assault on her mouth, freely stroking the curve of her waist, her ripe firm buttocks, and pulling her hips against his, torturing them both with need.
Her fingers curled through his hair as she deepened the kiss, urging him on, encouraging his exploring caresses until passion sang through his veins, heating his blood, speeding his pulse, stealing his very breath.
His conscience nudged him anew. This wasn’t right. There were things he should tell Barbara. She said she was sure she wanted him, but would she if she knew everything about Kayleen and him? He angled away from her a couple of inches.
She blinked, breathless and frowning. “What?”
“Before we go any further, there’s something I need to tell you about Kayleen and—”
“I don’t want to talk about Kayleen anymore tonight.” She pulled his head to hers, her lips as sweet as sugared candy, her kisses distracting, mind-robbing bandits stripping him of his good intentions.
He moaned against her mouth. “But I—”
“Not now,” she whispered, her breath a feathered wisp against his flesh. His pulse shivered in response, his blood surging through his veins like charged ions, scattering every thought in his head but those of Barbara, beautiful, precious, wonderful Barbara, and his need for her.
He carried her to the bed, then stepped back and peeled off his sweater, enjoying the delight that danced in her eyes as she stared at his naked chest, her gaze lowering to the waist of his jeans as he worked the top button free.
“I’m not sure—” she said.
He watched, mesmerized, as she ran her tongue over her bottom lip, ached to taste her mouth again, to feel her tongue on his bare flesh.
She rose up on her elbows. “I mean, I don’t want to disappoint you.”
He closed his eyes, swallowing his impatience, thanking God that he’d found this giving treasure, praying that he would make her grateful she’d waited to share this moment with him. “You aren’t going to disappoint me.”
“But it’s been so long since I—”
He laughed softly, a warm rumble in his throat. “You know what they say about riding a bike—you don’t forget.”
“Oh, I know how.” Her smile darkened her eyes to the hue of a mountain pool. “I just don’t know that I was ever—”
He silenced her fears with his mouth, savoring again the heady taste she evoked as his tongue twined with hers; this union, a prelude to the greater one ahead, caused exquisite tremblings throughout his body, straining his patience. He wanted to go slow, but could he?
Yes, because more than his own need, he wanted her pleasure. He dug a condom from his pocket, and leaving his jea
ns on, he joined her on the bed.
Soon her sweater was on the floor beside his, and he reached for her bra, a lacy pink wisp of fabric that unhooked in the front with one flick of his experienced fingers; but for all that experience, his hand trembled as though he were a virgin and this the first woman he’d ever desired, ever made love to, ever loved.
Achingly slowly, he whisked aside the silken cloth, exposing the most beautiful breasts he’d ever seen. He drew a sharp breath but couldn’t swallow, or think—only respond. He brushed his knuckles across one dark tip, hesitantly, gingerly, gathering the taut nipple between his fingers.
Impatience swept him again with the force of a released floodgate. He closed his eyes, schooling his need, striving for forbearance, taking deep breaths until control returned, then once more feasting his eyes on her incredible beauty. “God, you’re perfect.”
“So are you.” Barbara sighed, joy cascading through her. She tilted her breast toward his mouth, inviting his attention, and the second his wet tongue flicked across the distended bud, tingles exploded through her, eliciting mind-boggling heat waves in every intimate depth of her.
Her breath rushed and passion crashed through her like breakers on a shore, thundering unrelentingly, driving her greed for him higher and higher with an urgency she had never experienced until this moment, with this man.
She feathered her fingertips down his rock-hard stomach, stroking the trace of soft blond hair there, until she came to the open waistband of his jeans. Chad groaned, a sound rich and potent, full of pleasure and need, that spurred her on to tug open the second button of his fly. Then the third. The fourth.
She slipped her hand inside his shorts, through the nest of thick hair and touched him, tentatively, shyly, with fascination rippling through her at the feel of him, the size of him. He moaned, and she watched his eyes glaze with desire as she grew gradually bolder.
He murmured her name and pulled her to him, kissing her mouth with yet more abandon as he squirmed out of his pants and reached for hers, swiftly undoing the zipper and dragging her panties down her legs with her jeans.
He paused then, gazing at her with awe in his eyes as if he’d never seen a naked woman before, skimming his knuckles over her tummy as if she might melt at his touch, dipping his fingertips into the cleft between her legs as if she belonged to him.
And at that moment she wanted nothing less. She arched to meet his delving fingers, marveled that they seemed to know exactly where and how to touch her, wallowed in the delicious sensations he evoked—sensations that quickly spiraled out of control and lifted her into the clouds above. Closing her eyes, she moaned, her whole being responding to Chad as though she were a fourstringed musical instrument and he a master violinist playing her to perfection, filling her with such rapture that it racked her body from head to toe, dampening his fingertips.
She opened her eyes to his smiling face. In the golden candlelight his magnificent body glistened, tanned and muscled. Lean and hard, throbbing with desire—as her body ached for him. “Oh, Chad, I’ve waited for you for so long. Don’t make me wait any longer.”
Slowly he found her mouth again and kissed her with unleashed passion as he slipped on the condom. Then he rose above her, settling between her parted legs, his thrust gentle, demanding, their joining smooth, hard, thrilling.
Barbara cried out his name in sheer ecstasy as with every thrust of their hips, her pulse hummed higher and higher, faster and faster. Exquisite sensations coiled inside her, then erupted in a burst of pure pleasure, sending sparkles of light dancing before her eyes and through her mind.
Chad cried out her name as he reached his own climax and collapsed against her. A moment later he rolled onto his side and pulled her with him. In the tender silence that followed, Barbara pondered what had just happened between them. Sex had never been like this for her, ever. Was this what they called “making love”? How had she gotten so lucky to experience this most precious of gifts with a man she actually could love?
She propped herself on one elbow and gazed down at Chad, her heart still hammering, her breathing still ragged. “You were definitely worth the five-year wait, Chad Ryker.”
His mouth crooked in a teasing grin. “I could see to it that you give up celibacy for good, if you like.”
“I like.” She trailed her fingertips through the tawny hair on his chest, then stroked down his stomach and reached for him again, not wholly surprised to find him ready and eager.
Half an hour later, Barbara fell asleep in his arms. Chad gazed down on her face. She seemed as innocent as Missy at this moment. But “uninformed” would be a more apt description. She thought he was a great guy; he felt like a dog. He should have told her about Kayleen. Should have insisted she listen. Before they’d made love.
To tell her now would clear his conscience, but he would be doing it to make himself feel better. It would only hurt Barbara. God willing, she would never need to know the whole truth.
Chapter Twelve
Chad woke around 6:00 a.m. to find himself alone in Barbara’s bed. He stretched, lazily, happily, thinking she must be in the bathroom, expecting her to return at any moment. After five minutes, he started wondering where she was. After ten minutes, he threw off the covers and dressed.
Muted voices filtered to him from the kitchen. He paused in the living room. Barbara and Edie sat huddled together at the table, deep in conversation, both of their expressions anxious, grim. His chest squeezed with worry. What was going on?
“Oh, Edie, be serious,” Barbara said, lifting her hair off her nape in a gesture that he was starting to love. “Marshall is going to demand to have his daughter returned to him.”
“Even so, surely he’ll be open to some sort of joint custody—for Missy’s sake, if nothing else.” Edie’s eyes were underscored with dark purple hues as though she hadn’t slept in days, and she sounded as if she were the one in danger of losing Missy.
Chad remembered how fiercely she’d defended Barbara’s rights yesterday and it occurred to him that Edie probably did feel as though Missy were part of her own family. His heart ached at this awful situation.
“Joint custody? Oh, God, Edie.” Barbara’s voice held no hope. “That isn’t possible and we both know it.”
“No one needs to know about—” Edie caught sight of Chad and broke off. Her eyes widened in warning to Barbara.
He strode to the coffeemaker. “Good morning, ladies.”
“Good morning.” Barbara’s greeting came out in a quavery voice. Chad wished he could attribute her dismay to his presence in her kitchen the morning after a night of lovemaking. But he feared it was because he’d overheard something he shouldn’t have.
“Good morning, Mr. Ryker.” Edie’s reception was as stiff as her back.
“Please, call me Chad.” He filled a mug with coffee, then turned and faced both women. “There’s no point in my pretending I didn’t overhear some of your conversation. Would one of you please explain what it is you’re trying to cover up?”
Edie chuckled, a short sarcastic chirp. “The last thing I’d tell an investigative reporter is a secret that I wanted kept.”
“I promise, I’m not here as a reporter. Anything you tell me will be strictly off the record. Private.”
Edie rolled her eyes.
Chad steadied his gaze on Barbara. “I think I proved yesterday whose side I’m on.”
Her cheeks reddened. But the fear in her lovely eyes roused his concern, fed his curiosity. She shook her head. “Chad, I—”
“No,” Edie interrupted. “He doesn’t need to know.”
Barbara sighed. “I don’t think Chad would willingly do anything to hurt Missy or me.”
The doctor blew out a long breath through pursed lips, her tired blue eyes suddenly even more weary with resignation. “Is that true, Mr. Ryker?”
“Chad. Yes, it’s true.”
“Then maybe it would be better if I did this.” Edie motioned him to the chair between
them. “Sit.”
“Edie,” Barbara protested. “I can’t let you—”
“You aren’t letting me do anything. I’ve already done it. I did it willingly. I’ve always known I’d have to accept the consequences one day.”
“I don’t like the sound of this, ladies. What the hell have you done?”
“The only thing I could think of to help a terrified young woman and her child.” Edie took a long sip of coffee, then set the cup down gently and raised her gaze to his. There was no apology there. Whatever she’d done, she didn’t regret.
Barbara said, “Edie filled out a ‘live’ birth certificate so that we could establish Missy’s ID.”
“Why?” Chad asked. “Why would a doctor do that?”
Edie blew out a breath and sat straighter. “My reasons were personal, but suffice it to say, Ja—er—Barbara and Missy entered my life at a time when I was vulnerable to their plight. Not as a doctor, but as a woman. Despite every professional ethic I hold dear, I just had to do whatever it took to help them.”
Chad’s gaze steadied on her. “What else did it take?”
Edie swallowed hard. “I also secured the documents of one of my deceased patients for Barbara. To establish an identity for her.”
Chad studied the doctor for a moment. “The patient’s name was Jane Dolan?”
Edie nodded. “She was a drifter, around the same age as Barbara. No family. She died of blood poisoning a week after the interstate accident.” Edie ran her hands through her mussed blond hair. “It seemed somehow…providential. I was responsible for the death certificate, so I altered one or two of the statistics. Since there was no family to collect her personal effects, I volunteered to dispose of them.”
“And gave Jane’s birth certificate and social-security card to me,” Barbara concluded for her friend.
“What about the police?” Chad glanced between the two women. “Didn’t they question either of you?”
“Not me.” Barbara shook her head. “I checked us out of the hospital and into a motel the day after the accident.”