Without looking back, she headed for the gardens. She crept along, hiding behind trees to stay out of range of the cameras. She rounded a corner and shot across the lawn. The next thing she knew, her foot caught on something and the ground rushed up to meet her. She landed with a thud.
"Urgh."
It was the only word she could manage when a solid object landed on top of her and breath exploded from her lungs.
"What the holy hell are you doing?"
#
Light from a waning moon cascaded down to illuminate the path Ben crossed to the first shed. It was well after midnight. The forecast called for thunderstorms to blow in, so he needed to hurry. He mapped out a route to each of the outlying structures, starting with the two closest storage buildings. He figured it made more sense to conceal a secret access closer to the Institute.
Peter secured keys to all of the shacks so he didn’t need to employ his lock-picking skills. Peter desperately wanted to accompany him but couldn’t get out of his gig mopping floors at the nearby women’s shelter. They couldn’t afford to postpone the excursion even one night. It might make the difference in saving a person’s life.
A window creaked in the distance, followed by shuffling sounds.
He wasn’t alone.
Palming his gun, he flattened himself against the side of the building. Chancing a look, he peered around the corner in time to see a black shape leap from a second floor window and perform some kind of death defying acrobatic move in the tree and land on the ground. The ninja came into view. He stuck out his foot and the figure tumbled to the ground. He pounced.
"Urgh."
He knew that voice. He heard it every night in his dreams.
"What the holy hell are you doing?" he whispered angrily.
Rolling to the side, he tugged Rachel to her feet. Her knees buckled as she visibly struggled for air. He grabbed her shoulders to steady her, his lips flattening in concern.
"Are you okay?"
"Chest…crushed…breath…" she waved a hand, "gone."
"Oh, geez, Rach, I’m sorry." He rubbed her back soothingly. "I wasn’t expecting it to be you slinking around in the middle of the night."
Tiny curling tendrils escaped her heavy knit cap. He gently tucked them back in place.
Holding up a hand, she stuttered, "S-okay." She inhaled deeply and so did he when her lungs filled completely.
Her shoulders steeled. "I’m better now. Let’s go."
She spun around but he clamped on her wrist, bringing her stumbling against him.
"I don’t think so, sweetheart."
He studied her closer. She had removed the brown contacts. Her gorgeous eyes sparkled like shimmering green pools, her gaze both hopeful and determined. She looked so adorable with a flush tinting her flawless cheeks he couldn’t stop himself from leaning down and pressing his lips to hers. It took a Herculean effort, but he eased back. Her eyes were closed, a smile arching her delicate pink mouth.
"What was that for?" she asked, her eyes fluttering open.
Ah damn. He backed her up against the building and kissed her like he wanted, needed. The little mewling sound she made hardened him instantly. She gasped when he drew her legs around his waist and he ground against her. Nails dug into his shoulders as she rubbed her breasts against his chest like a kitten.
If he didn’t stop, he would take her right here, out in the open, against the cold brick façade of a mental institution.
Reluctantly, he broke the kiss and eased her legs to the grass. Their breath mingled harshly in the cool evening breeze.
"Trying to convince me to go back inside?" she rasped.
Well, he hadn’t thought about that, but now that she mentioned it…"Yeah, did it work?"
"Ha." She smacked him on the chest. "Think again, Romeo. I’m your shadow. Wherever you go, I go."
He tamped down his temper. She tweaked his every last nerve like a maestro. Jaw locked, he gritted out, "How did you find out?"
"I read about it in the Bexley Institute weekly. It was posted right under the menu for next week. How do you think I found out?" She punctuated her last statement with a finger in his chest. Eyes narrowed, her balled fists slammed to her hips.
He met her angry glare and fought the smile that itched to break free. He couldn’t help it, both corners of his mouth lifted.
"You think this is funny?" she sputtered incredulously.
He shook his head and sighed. "There is no way to talk you out of this, is there?"
"`Fraid not."
Resigned, he scrubbed a hand down his face. "All right, let’s go."
He started forward but stopped when she didn’t budge. He spun to face her. "What?"
"You are really going to let me come along?"
"Like I have a choice," he muttered.
A wide smile split her face, her earlier anger forgotten. "You are so sweet." She pulled his head down and kissed him. "What are we waiting for? Let’s go."
Sweet? Shaking his head, he led the way.
#
Adrenalin coursed through Rachel’s veins, powering her movements, energizing her. She had never done anything so daring, so dangerous before. She was having a blast.
"Where are we going first?" she whispered.
"There’s a storage unit just ahead."
A cacophony of sounds urged her forward, lured her in, encouraged her to explore the unknown night. Crickets chirped merrily, frogs croaked a hearty melody, water bubbled over a small fall in the stream that wound its way through the gardens. It was all so peaceful, and romantic, and so…
She inhaled sharply and leaped on Ben’s back. The unexpected load sent him staggering forward.
"Calm down," he grunted. "It’s just an opossum."
"But…it had beady eyes," she protested weakly. "And sharp teeth." It looked like a huge rat, her worst fear.
"The better to eat you with, my dear," he mocked, adding a wicked cackle.
"Oh ha, ha. Opossums don’t eat people…do they?"
"You are such a girl," he teased.
"And you are such a jerk," she grumped, sliding down his back. She thanked the darkness that hid her pink-tinged cheeks.
They resumed their pace but he stopped abruptly. She slammed into his back.
"What is it?" She rubbed her dinged nose.
"There is a cat slinking around over there," he said, pointing. "It has beady eyes and sharp teeth. Try not to let it scare you."
A low rumble sounded in her throat. "Smartass. Emphasis on ass," she mumbled under her breath.
He chuckled and guided her to the first building. Sliding a key into the lock, he turned the handle. The door creaked unnaturally loud and they both winced. Grabbing her hand, they slipped inside, the door easing shut to enclose them in darkness as solid as a tomb. Ben snapped on a high powered flashlight and handed it to her.
"What exactly are we looking for?"
"Anything unusual, suspicious. A trap door, hidden access. Those people are leaving somehow and it isn’t through the Institute."
"Got it."
Gardening equipment filled practically every square inch. Two riding mowers, two push mowers, weed eaters, leaf blowers, chain saws and everything needed to maintain the luxurious grounds all crammed together inside the small room. The sharp tang of gasoline overpowered the fragrant scent of freshly cut grass.
They covered the space quickly. Ben inspected the entire surface carefully, even checking beneath a rubber mat used to protect the concrete floor. They found nothing.
"Where to next," she asked.
He plucked a sheet from his pocket and trained the beam on the paper. "We’ll try another shed on the other side of the botanical gardens. It contains pond supplies, Koi food, bird seed, that kind of thing."
After making sure no one lurked nearby, he led her outside. They navigated a path through the gardens, crossing wooden bridges and skirting hidden fountains. The park rivaled any big city recreational area with expertly trimm
ed shrubs and bushes, crushed stone and bark walkways, flowers, exotic grasses and several ponds. It was as serene a place as she had ever visited.
The only thing that could have made the evening perfect would be if moonlight bathed the earth in a soft glow, but ominous clouds swirled overhead, the scent of impending rain coating the heavy air. Thunder rumbled in the distance.
"Hopefully it will hold off—"
Loud arguing sliced through the night. They both froze. Frederick and Oscar Bexley strolled along the path leading away from the other shed. They hadn’t spotted Ben and Rachel yet.
Rachel’s head whipped back and she yelped when Ben grabbed her and shoved her down on a wooden bench set off the pathway. He covered her body.
Her cry of protest echoed in his mouth as it covered hers in a deep kiss. He angled his body to conceal hers. The voices drew closer.
"We don’t need to diversify," Oscar insisted. "We’ve got more irons in the fire than we can handle now."
The arguing ceased abruptly.
Ben tensed but continued to explore her mouth. She considered shooing the brothers away and dragging him fully on top of her.
A low chuckle. "Nice night for a secret liaison, eh, Mr. Smith?"
Pulling his mouth free, he glanced over his shoulder, keeping her face hidden. "Oh, sorry, I didn’t think anyone else would be around."
"No worries, young man," Frederick said. She could hear the smile in his voice. "This is one of my favorite spots, too."
"We’ll leave you alone, but you might want to speed it along," Oscar added helpfully. "Looks like a nasty storm brewing in the distance."
In more ways than one, she thought.
The brothers said their goodbyes and continued along the path. She tried to pull Ben back down but he tracked Oscar and Frederick with a keen eye. Dropping her arms to the side, she sighed in defeat.
Slowly he turned to her with a wicked gleam. "I do believe they gave me their approval to plunder my wench."
Insulted, she hissed, "Wench?" Who are you calling a wen—"
His smiling mouth cut off her protest. He nipped her bottom lip and slid his tongue along her teeth. He could call her anything he wanted if he just kept on kissing her like this. She lovingly caressed his thick biceps.
He broke the contact and she whimpered, trying to coax him back. He traced his thumb along her chin. "We need to hurry." Thunder boomed, punctuating his claim.
He was right; they needed to find the second entrance to the room, the sooner the better. He had a way of making her forget her quest to locate Molly.
She grasped his outstretched hand and let him tug her to her feet. He threaded his fingers with hers as they negotiated the path the Bexley brothers just traversed. Ben jerked to a stop, a finger over his lips as they reached the next shed. The door stood ajar.
They remained silent, listening for any movement. Only the clash of the nearing storm broke the stillness of the evening. Even the crickets stopped chattering.
"Stay here," he whispered.
Yeah, right. She tiptoed after him, bumping into his back when he stopped.
"I thought I told you…ah, hell," he grumbled, knowing when to give up the fight. A fine characteristic in a man, she thought with a secret smile.
Clinging to his shirt, she matched his pace as they eased forward. A gun materialized in his hand. She started. She didn’t even see him draw.
"Ready?"
She inhaled deeply and nodded, bracing herself as he swung the door wide.
Rachel screamed.
Chapter Twenty-One
"Rachel."
Ben’s hand covered Rachel’s mouth, barely masking the sound. "Stop screaming," he demanded against her ear. He effectively muffled her outburst by dragging her behind a flowering shrub and trapping her beneath him. Her urge to flee kicked in and she shoved at him, her eyes wide and frantic.
"Calm down, babe. It was just a cat," he said.
She stilled. Blinked. "A cat?" she garbled.
He removed his hand and traced her lips with his fingertips. "The same cat we saw sneaking around earlier. Remember?"
She pushed to her elbows. "What was he doing in there?" she asked, her body humming indignantly.
He smiled. "I’d guess foraging for food."
"Do cats eat birdseed?"
"If they are hungry enough, I suppose. But he was probably looking for a four-legged meal."
His meaning penetrated and she gasped. "You mean…a-a mouse?"
"Or rat, they have a little more meat…hey, where are you going?"
She struggled to her feet, having very little luck under his heavy weight.
"I am not going in that building if there are," she shuddered, "rats."
"Hey, hey, come on now," he soothed. "They are more afraid of you. Sure, they might chew on your toes, or run up your pant leg…Rachel, stop."
He easily subdued her and dropped his forehead to hers. "I’m just teasing you."
A tear leaked out. His smile vanished. He felt sucker-punched.
"Oh babe, I’m sorry."
He brushed the drop away with his thumb. "You really are scared of mice, aren’t you?"
She nodded, her green eyes damp and luminous.
Thunder exploded. The storm inched closer.
"You stay here and I’ll go check this one out, okay?"
She made a sound of agreement and he eased her to a sitting position. "You know, it’s a little scary to realize a woman screamed bloody murder and no one came running to help."
Her head whipped around, searching the area. "You’re right. What if I was being attacked?" Her nostrils flared with fury. "I could have been killed."
He didn’t disagree. She had great lungs and enough sound escaped before he covered her mouth to wake the dead three states away. That no one came to her aid disturbed him.
"Stay here. I’ll be back as soon as possible."
"No." She surged to her feet. "I need to do this. I need to fight my fear."
"You sure?"
She nodded confidently.
His admiration of her grew. "Okay then, let’s go."
Clasping her hand, his gaze raked the area. The door to the shed creaked and groaned, swinging lazily with the storm-induced breeze. Leaves skated across the path and tree branches dipped and swayed.
He wasn’t one to scare easily, but the scene reminded him of a bad slasher movie. The killer would leap from the bushes as lightening cracked, wielding a handful of knives.
Dismissing the image from his head, he flicked on the flashlight and entered the shed. Rachel clung to him like Velcro.
The small space barely fit two people among the shelves stacked with various types of animal food. "What were Oscar and Freddy doing out here?" he wondered aloud.
"I think I know."
At Rachel’s soft declaration, he followed the beam of her flashlight. Tucked in the corner of a workbench was a soft flannel cushion overflowing with new-born kittens mewling softly. Fresh food and water filled two nearby bowls.
"Funny, they don’t seem like the cat loving type," she murmured, reaching out to pet the fuzzy animals. Ben grabbed her hand.
"Careful, momma kitty is somewhere close. She won’t take too kindly to you messing with her babies."
"Oh, right."
"Let’s search this place quickly and move on. That storm," thunder bellowed, "will be here soon."
They found nothing except a couple of thick parkas dangling from a hook. Draping one over Rachel, he tucked the other under his arm. He propped the door open so the mother could get back to her kittens. Grabbing Rachel’s hand, he retraced their steps down the path.
They had just crossed an arching wooden bridge when lightening sliced bright enough to turn the earth white. A blast of thunder chased it and then the skies opened. A torrent of rain poured out, pelting them like wet daggers from the force of the winds.
"Over there," Rachel yelled, barely loud enough to be heard over the violent storm. She dar
ted for an enclosed gazebo and he followed, sliding the bamboo door closed behind them.
Rain pounded against the hexagon-shaped structure, the wood interior buffeting the sound, cocooning them in a round haven. Water dripped from the cupola down the three-tiered roof to mimic a waterfall. White rice paper covered the glass windows, effectively shutting out the world.
"What a lovely place to meditate," she mused, tugging off her knit cap. The wet parka slid off her arms, the movement plastering the black turtleneck to her breasts.
He suddenly felt like doing some worshipping, but it wasn’t religion he considered. It was Rachel’s spectacular body. Then again, her body could be considered a religious experience.
Only one thing stood between him and that body.
Her fiancé.
He did not poach on another man’s territory, no matter how tempted. Sure, he might have kissed her two or three or hell, seven times but the first one he excused since he didn’t know about J. Edwin Farnsworth. He had no excuse for kisses two through six except that he just couldn’t seem to stop himself. The last one had been unavoidable. He needed to hide her from the Bexleys—and it worked.
But sequestered in this cozy love nest as the storm raged outside, he wanted nothing more than to lay her down and sink into her warm, welcoming heat, fiancé be damned. He didn’t imagine her response to his touch, her desire. Fiancé or no, she wanted him just as bad.
She dropped onto one of the large cushions arranged around the room. He tossed his jacket over hers and joined her. Time to clear the air.
Her hands rubbed her arms briskly.
"Cold?"
"A little."
"Scoot that pillow over here and we’ll share body heat." Said the spider to the fly.
He waited until she cuddled against him with a contented sigh before he dropped his bomb.
"So, how’s J. Edwin doing these days?"
#
In the midst of settling next to Ben, Rachel stiffened. The shock of hearing her fiancé’s name spilling from his mouth disconcerted her. How did he know about Eddie?
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