Bridal Reconnaissance

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Bridal Reconnaissance Page 13

by Lisa Childs


  Something flickered in his dark eyes and she read his thought. But not enough to remember. Hoping to kiss away any pain she might have caused him, she pressed her lips against his heart. Soft chest hair tickled her nose as she breathed in his richly seductive scent.

  “Amanda…”

  One hand caught in her hair, gently tugging her mouth up to his. As he nibbled on her lips, the fingers of his other hand tugged the buttons free on her blouse. Under the gray cotton, he would find tangerine satin. One of her weaknesses.

  Breaking away from her kiss, he levered himself up, sighing and running a hand over his face. “I’m sorry, Amanda.”

  “For what—”

  Did he not want her?

  He clicked the switch on the lamp and soft light pooled around the bed, washing over them both. “I should have remembered the dark—”

  She pressed a finger against his lips. “I’m not scared now, not with you.”

  But maybe that was foolish. Because with the feelings he inspired in her, she undoubtedly had the most to fear from Evan Quade, her husband.

  His mouth moved beneath her fingers, as if he wanted to voice a warning to her. Then he glanced down, his gaze falling onto her parted blouse and the bright-colored satin bra beneath it. He groaned, then his tongue flicked out, lapping at her fingers.

  Amanda shivered over the erotic sensation and moaned. “Oh, Evan…”

  “This is just the beginning, Amanda.”

  The beginning.

  She had no memory of that. No memory of this man until he’d showed up on her doorstep a few days ago. But her body remembered him as it hummed with anticipation of the pleasure it knew he would give.

  And he did.

  More long deep kisses. So many she lost count and lost her senses.

  The next sensation she knew was the sweet caress of his rough palms across her bare skin. Somehow he’d unclasped the bra and pushed it and the blouse from her shoulders without her being the least bit aware of his movements. She’d been aware of nothing but the teasing entrance and retreat of his tongue as it slid in and out of her parted lips. Tasting, devouring, bringing her to the brink with just his kisses.

  But the next movements of his hands caught her attention as his fingers circled her taut nipples, skimming over the trembling curve of her breasts, each pass bringing him ever closer to the centers that ached for his touch. “Please, Evan…”

  The rough pads of his thumbs stroked over the area that begged most for his attention. She gasped as pleasure shot from her nipples to the center of her heat that burned for him. Wriggling on the bed, she reached for him, her short nails clawing down the taut curve of his back as he leaned over her.

  But he pulled back, his dark eyes glazed with passion as he stared down at her. “Slow. We’re taking it slow, Amanda…”

  And slowly she burned alive with desire as his tongue followed the lazy stroking motions of his hands on her breasts. Teasing, tasting until the moist length of it flicked over her nipples. She arched up, seeking the heat and pleasure of his mouth as it closed over her quivering flesh, sucking, nipping.

  She moaned and thrashed her head from side to side on his silk-covered pillows. Her hands, still under his unbuttoned shirt, traveled down the silkier skin of his back, around his washboard stomach, which rippled beneath her touch, to the buckle of his belt.

  “No…” The protest sighed out of his lips against her breasts. “Slow down, Amanda. I don’t have much control left. It’s been so long…”

  A long time since he’d had any woman or just her? Jealousy ripped through her. But she’d left him. So who had betrayed whom first?

  Another woman, his besotted secretary for instance, wouldn’t have left. Thinking of another woman touching him, kissing him, freed her from the last of her inhibitions.

  The belt buckle broke loose beneath her anxious hands, and the zipper echoed his guttural groan as she released it. Once she’d removed his clothes, her hands closed over him, stroking the strong satiny length of him.

  “Amanda, no!” Shuddering as he obviously fought for control of his desire, he pulled her hands away. “I want to pleasure you first.”

  The intensity in his gaze had her lying back on the pillows as he tugged her jeans down her suddenly boneless legs. When they hit the floor, his fingers traced the lace edge of her tangerine panties.

  She bit her lip as she anticipated his next move. He leaned down, his tongue smoothing over the bitten flesh of her lower lip as his fingers stroked over the satin fabric covering the core of her femininity.

  Her legs parted allowing him greater access, and he took advantage, sliding his fingers under that lace edge and combing through her curls. As his tongue slid into her mouth, his fingertip slid into her.

  Her hips came off the mattress, pushing hard against his hand. “Evan…” She sighed into his mouth and reached for him again.

  But he eluded her, jerking away from her questing hands. His mouth slid down her arching throat, his tongue flicking over the pulse jumping because of his passionate torture. Then he feasted on her breasts again, tongue sliding around her taut nipples, as his fingers slid in and out of her.

  She shuddered, losing complete control under his concentrated ministrations. As she panted, passion wracking her, his mouth slid lower, tongue swirling in her navel before he slid lower yet.

  He dragged her panties off her legs and replaced his fingers with the stroking length of his tongue. She clasped her hands in his hair, intending to drag him back up. But she grew weak again as pleasure crashed through her.

  When she thought she could feel no more, he gave more. He parted her legs farther and drove himself inside her, the long, hard length of him lifting her to the edge of ecstasy. Again and again he drove into her. She locked her legs around his lean waist and clung tight to his shoulders, her teeth nipping into the satiny smooth sinews as he made love to her.

  Body, mind and soul.

  She lost them all to him. And more.

  When they simultaneously found paradise, crying out their pleasure in unison, she lost her heart, too. But as she slipped off to sleep in his arms, memories teased her, and she suspected she’d lost her heart to him long ago. And now had no hope of ever getting it back.

  EVAN NARROWED HIS EYES against the early-morning sunshine slanting through the blinds, but his gaze never wavered from Amanda’s beautiful face. The light bathed her delicate features, washing over the curve of her fuller lower lip.

  He wanted to kiss her to wakefulness, but he had already reached for her more than once in the night, unable to accept that she wasn’t a dream. His wife was really back in his bed…for now.

  Because she needed him. But what happened when the threat was gone, when Weering was back behind bars where he belonged? She would leave him again and return to the life she’d made for herself in River City. And knowing what he did about himself, he’d have to let her go. Again.

  Last night, remembering her fragility, he had controlled his raging desire for her. He’d managed as much tenderness as he was capable of.

  Last night.

  But this morning passion smoldered in him, and slow deep breathing fed—instead of extinguished—the fire burning for her.

  His wife.

  She murmured in her sleep and her brow furrowed, her dark-blond brows knitting in consternation. Fear. Did she fear more than the madman that stalked her? Did she fear the past, too, and what she would remember of her life as Mrs. Evan Quade?

  What had made her leave him? Had she loved him at least a fraction of the love that had consumed him for her? That still consumed him.

  He suppressed a shuddering sigh. He couldn’t lament what would never be, what could never be. After all she’d been through, Amanda definitely deserved more…much more than him. She deserved true happiness. And as he’d told her last night, he couldn’t offer her that.

  But he could offer her security. All he had to do was track down Weering and eliminate the threat.


  Anger caught flame with the passion, and a thirst for vigilante justice hardened his heart. He wanted to hurt the man who had hurt his wife.

  But he had to be the better man. He had to control his anger and be satisfied with returning the animal to the cage in which he belonged.

  He had to do it before the man hurt anyone else.

  On the bedside table, the telephone jangled. Quickly, so as not to awaken Amanda, he grabbed up the receiver. “Quade.”

  “Evan—”

  “Did you find him?” he interrupted his brother-in-law with the most important question.

  The sheriff’s weary sigh breezed through the connection. At the dawn hour, it was no wonder he’d be tired since he’d probably been working all night. The Winter Falls sheriff would take any threat to his town personally, but Evan knew that the sheriff cared more about this one because this one was against family.

  His gaze fell again to Amanda’s troubled face. Even her sleep was haunted by this madman.

  “I take that to mean you didn’t. Did you at least find any sign of him?” Anything to support their supposition that he had followed them to Winter Falls.

  “Maybe.”

  “What? Did you talk to the River City D.A.?”

  Yesterday Evan had left word at Sullivan’s office, requesting a call back to him or the sheriff’s department about William Weering III.

  Dylan grunted. “Yeah. He sent a unit around to the address Weering had left with his parole officer. He’s MIA.”

  “No kidding. So what’s he doing about it?”

  “He issued a warrant.”

  “It’s a little damned late now.” But not too late for Amanda. He would keep Amanda safe.

  “And it keeps getting worse. Come down to the docks, Evan. I want you to take a look at a body.”

  Evan shuddered as an image of Weering’s last mutilated victim flashed behind his eyes. And then the people twisted and injured with the wreckage of the car Weering had forced off the road. That hadn’t been an accident. The madman had shown them what he could have done to them, if he’d wanted, if he hadn’t been playing.

  Who else had fallen victim to the madman’s games? “A body? God, no.”

  “Yeah. I put an extra deputy on your place. And Royce doubled up the security team you hired. They’re really good. She and the boy will be safe.”

  But that assurance did him little good. The thought of leaving them while this threat lurked against them filled him with guilt and helplessness.

  He’d let Amanda leave once, and she’d become a victim of this man then. If only his stubborn pride hadn’t stopped him from immediately chasing after her…

  “It’ll just take an hour, Evan, not much more than that. I need something to link this murder to the one in River City.” And to Weering. “Just an hour.”

  And it had only taken him a couple of days before he’d tossed his pride aside and gone after her, but it had been too late then. Could he take that risk now?

  “She’ll be safe. Nobody will get past all that security. But you might be able to see something that’ll help us catch this bastard before he kills again, Evan.”

  He sighed and dragged a hand through his hair and over his unshaven jaw. The slight chafing on Amanda’s translucent skin was explained now. He’d hurt her. Even though he hadn’t meant to, even though he’d been as gentle as possible, it hadn’t been enough. He had to track down Weering, so that he could let her go. Before he hurt her again.

  “Fine. I’ll be there in a few.” He reached over her to hang the phone back up and found her deep green eyes open and full of questions.

  “You’re leaving?”

  “Just for an hour or so.”

  Fear, maybe left over from her troubled dreams, maybe at the thought of him leaving, flashed through her eyes. He didn’t want to tell her about the possibility of another victim and see that fear increase. And be responsible for it.

  “You’ll be fine,” he assured her, wishing he could accept that himself. “There’s an extra deputy on and twice the manpower from Murphy Security. No one will get near this estate. I promise.”

  She nodded, then winced.

  “Another headache?” Evan asked, concerned. She had needed her rest, and instead he had made love to her most of the night and then awakened her at dawn. “Go back to sleep. It’s very early yet.”

  “Then where are you going? The office this early?” Resentment flashed in her eyes now, replacing the fear.

  The emotion was one he had seen a lot of from the old Amanda.

  She shook her head. “I—I’m sorry I don’t know where that came from. Of course you have a business to run, a life…” But still the resentment burned.

  He could tell she thought his business was more important to him than she and their son were. She had thought that six years ago, back when he’d been trying to please her but still please his adoptive father by following his example in business. By letting it consume him. But she’d consumed him, too, with her passion.

  In the end he’d pleased no one.

  She stiffened and drew farther from him across the expansive space of the king-size bed. “I was gone a long time. I understand that you have other obligations, other commitments. After so many years, I can’t mean anything to you anymore if I ever had.”

  “Amanda…”

  “Last night I threw myself at you, seeking comfort, seeking release from all this stress. The doctor said I needed to do that, needed to release the stress instead of holding it inside.” Her pale skin flushed mottled red with embarrassment.

  “So last night you were just carrying out doctor’s orders?” Pain flashed through him.

  She shrugged, the comforter slipping from one bare shoulder. “That’s my excuse. What was yours? You just needed a woman, and I happened to be willing?”

  “You’re saying I used you?” The pain intensified, blinding him. He curled his hands into fists so he wouldn’t reach for her and show her just how much he wanted her. Only her. No other woman would have done.

  No other woman ever had. Not before. And since, he’d never even been tempted to break his marriage vows.

  “I can’t do this, Amanda.” Unwilling to argue with her, he kicked off the covers and strode from the bed. “I have to meet someone.”

  “We’ll be fine without you. We were for most of the last six years,” she said to his retreating back.

  Just when he had thought she couldn’t hurt him anymore…

  Her words still rang in his ears, even after he’d checked in on a sleeping Christopher and slipped quietly down the stairs and out of the house. He nodded to the deputy at the door and then to the security guard at the gate. But he didn’t speak. He couldn’t—his emotion was choking him.

  Nobody could infuriate him like Amanda. Nobody could fill him with as much passion with a look or a word. She made him crazy with loving her.

  He had no more than backed out the gate when he stopped for an approaching car. A familiar-looking sedan. Ms. Moore pulled to the side of the road and got out, running up to his window. He waited until she tapped on the glass before lowering it. He didn’t have time for business. He had time for nothing but assuring the safety of his son and his wife.

  “Ms. Moore, I told you there’s nothing that Marshall can’t handle about the business.”

  She tucked a straggly lock of bleached hair behind her ear. “But, Mr. Quade, there is one thing he can’t take care of.” She pushed a file toward him; he didn’t need to ask what it contained. “Your divorce papers. You need to have her sign these so I can return them to your lawyer.”

  His hands clenched the wheel. “You are way out of line, Ms. Moore. I suggest you leave right now.”

  Heat flamed in her face. “Mr. Quade, I’m only trying to help you. You know that I—I care about you…” Hope kindled in her brown eyes.

  How had he missed her feelings? Was he so self-absorbed that he had never noticed how she’d gotten too attached? “I’m sorr
y, Ms. Moore. I never gave you any indication—”

  “No.” She reached through the open window to lay her hand over his on the steering wheel. “I know, Mr. Quade. You couldn’t. You’re still a married man, but once she signs these papers…”

  “I didn’t need her signature to divorce her, Ms. Moore.” She’d been gone so long, he could have been a free man years ago. But a divorce decree wouldn’t have released him from his commitment to her then or now. He would always love Amanda.

  “I don’t understand.”

  He shook his head and lifted her hand from his. “No, you don’t and that’s my fault. I should have made sure that you did, that you knew that I never had and never would think of you as anything but my secretary.”

  Hurt tightened her thin face and dampened her eyes. “You love her?”

  “That’s not any of your business.” He paused and said, “I have to leave now.”

  As he drove away, she watched him. From the corner of his vision he caught the flicker at the blinds inside the house and knew someone else did, too.

  ANGER CHURNED IN Amanda’s empty stomach. Anger at herself, not Evan. He’d done nothing wrong. She was the guilty one. She was the one who’d used him and not just last night.

  Since the day he’d showed up on her doorstep, she had used him for protection and allowed him to put his life at risk to save hers. And now, knowing how much she loved him, she couldn’t do that. Not anymore.

  She had to leave.

  She flipped the blinds closed, the darkness soothing rather than frightening. She’d seen the secretary’s love for her boss and knew it would be as unrequited as her own love for Evan.

  Heat flamed in her face, embarrassment over her feelings but more in the way she’d expressed herself. She’d sounded like a spoiled child. Had she been? Was this the real Amanda Quade, the one she’d forgotten? Had she been so insecure that she’d been jealous of her husband’s work? Perhaps she hadn’t lost the strong woman she’d once been. Perhaps the woman she’d been was so weak that she had easily forgotten her.

 

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