Shirtless and barefoot, he made his way toward her. “You don’t know how many times I’ve dreamed of having you in my bedroom.”
“Well, here I am,” she said, striving for nonchalance, but the effect was ruined by the breathless quality of her voice.
“Yes, you are,” he said, and closed the distance between them. He reached out and stroked her face with his knuckles, sending shivers of delight throughout her body.
Gone was the urgency that had consumed them only moments ago. It was as though, instinctively, they knew they had a lifetime to enjoy this moment. He weaved his fingers through her damp hair, cradling the back of her neck with his hand. Placing his other hand on her waist, he drew her against him and claimed her mouth in a kiss.
She lifted a hand, running it across the expanse of his chest, raking her fingers through the light matting of hair. His skin felt warm, the muscles beneath strong. Flattening her palm on the center of his chest, she felt his heart pounding erratically.
The mood began to shift. His kiss grew restless, more demanding. Shockwaves of awareness skittered through her body as he lowered his hands, skimming her waist, not stopping until he cupped her derriere and brought her flush against him.
Evidence of his desire pressed hard and full against the softness of her belly. Maggie tore her mouth from his and drew in a steadying breath. Not missing a beat, he lowered his mouth, trailing butterfly kisses down the length of her neck, over the swell of her breasts.
Impatiently he fumbled with the buttons of her sundress. Cool air hit her skin as the dress fell open. He slid the damp fabric from her shoulders, allowing it to fall carelessly to the floor. Within seconds, he unfastened her bra, sliding it out of his way. Her nipples puckered beneath the impact of the cold air and his searing gaze.
Hooking his fingers into the waistband of her panties, he lowered them to the floor, then dropped to one knee in front of her to slide off her sandals. With his hands, then his mouth, he caressed her. Not an inch of her body went untouched. The callused pads of his fingers glided over her calves, her thighs. His hands slipped between her legs, parting them.
Maggie’s breath caught when he found her moist, warm center and stroked her. His lips soon followed, his tongue thrusting, his mouth suckling. Her body trembled. The strength left her limbs. Closing her eyes against the sensations pulsing deep inside her, she clung to his shoulders for support and bit her lip to keep from crying out.
When she thought she could stand no more, he rose up before her, lifting her off her feet as though she were weightless. Before she could react, he lowered his head and closed his mouth around one aroused nipple. He sucked gently first, then hard. Unable to stop herself, Maggie cried out with the intense pleasure. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she buried her fingers in his hair, tilted his head back and claimed his mouth with a hungry kiss. With a frustrated growl, he carried her to the bed.
Together they fell across the mattress, their bodies tangled. Jason pulled away only long enough to yank off his pants and briefs, kicking them out of the way. They came together in a rush, touching, arousing, giving each other exquisite pleasure.
Maggie never wanted the moment to end. Yet, as the heat built inside her, she felt impatient for much more. She lost all sense of reason, all inhibition. Nothing else mattered. Not the past. Not the future.
Only now. Only this.
As though sensing her impatience, Jason rose above her. His eyes dark and hooded with desire, he looked down on her. She met his gaze without wavering, feeling nothing but complete and utter trust. Then, bracing himself on his elbows, he slipped inside her, filling her. And Maggie nearly shattered beneath him.
He moved, slowly at first, finding a gentle rhythm. But it wasn’t enough. Impatience and desire took over. Soon the pace was fast and furious. Maggie watched as the muscles of his neck corded. His expression tautened with the intensity of the moment. Instinctively she raised her hips, taking him deeper inside her, meeting him thrust for delicious thrust.
Suddenly her world splintered into a thousand points of light and heat as her climax consumed her. Her pleasure only grew as seconds later she heard Jason’s hoarse cry and felt his pulsing release.
They collapsed on the bed, their bodies still entwined. A fine sheen of perspiration dampened her skin. Overwhelmed by the emotions billowing inside her, she felt tears mist her eyes. Embarrassed, she turned her face into the hollow of his shoulder.
“Maggie, what’s wrong?” Concern laced his voice. He pulled away, far enough to lift her chin, forcing her to look at him. Stiffening with sudden tension, he ran his hand across her tear-dampened face. Muttering an oath, he said, “If I’ve hurt you—”
“No,” she said, pressing a finger to his lips, stilling his fears. “I can’t explain. It was so...so perfect.” Heat flushed her face. “I’d never imagined I could feel that free ... that complete.”
His chest rose and fell with his sigh of relief. He pulled her close, cradling her in his arms. “It’s the way it should be. And if I have anything to say about it, it’s the way it will always be.”
Despite the tears, she smiled. The beat of her pounding heart returned to normal. A lethargy stole over her limbs. Secure in Jason’s arms, she felt her eyelids grow heavy. Too many restless nights had finally taken their toll. Feeling safe for the first time in months, she fell into an exhausted sleep.
Jason watched as her face softened into the lines of slumber. The air around them grew cold. Reaching for the blanket, careful not to disturb her, he covered them, wrapping them into a cocoon of warmth.
He wished he could cocoon them from all the problems he knew they would soon face. He’d promised her a future together. He’d promised to keep her safe.
How the hell was he supposed to accomplish the task?
A rush of cool air woke him. Feeling groggy, disoriented, he blinked his bedroom into focus and knew something wasn’t right. The lamp was still on, even though traces of dawn glowed through the cracks of the miniblinds. A single blanket covered his body. His sheets were tangled and twisted at his feet. And his bed felt cold and empty.
He sat up and saw Maggie slipping on her clothes. Trying not to let his disappointment show, he asked, “What time is it?”
“It’s early, but I need to go home,” she said, buttoning her sundress. “Kevin will be waking soon.”
He pulled back the covers, rising to join her.
“You don’t have to get up,” she said. “Stay in bed. I can see myself out.”
He shrugged as he reached for a pair of jeans and stepped into them. “I need to get to work soon, anyway.”
“Work...” she murmured.
His heart caught at the wistful tone of her voice. At his gaze she glanced away, biting her lip, looking troubled.
In three quick strides, he was in front of her. Gripping her shoulders, he forced her to face him. “There’s no need for second thoughts, Maggie. We will find a way to work this out.”
“And what if we can’t?” she asked, her chin jutting, her gaze steady and defiant. But the trembling of her lower lip belied her show of confidence. “Are you willing to look the other way for the rest of your life? Can you live with yourself, knowing that you’ll be breaking the law right along with me? If you don’t turn me in, you’ll be harboring a fugitive, Jason.”
His grip on her slender shoulders tightened. He felt a surge of fruitless anger rise inside him. “I’ll do whatever’s necessary to keep you and Kevin safe.”
She sighed, the fight going out of her eyes. “I know you will.”
Unease tightened his chest. The defeated expression, the resigned slump of her shoulders, the sadness tinting her green eyes, all spelled a woman ready to give up. He couldn’t lose her, not now. “Maggie, you have to trust me. Everything will be all right.”
“I do trust you, Jason,” she said with a bittersweet smile. “It’s fate I don’t trust. It has a way of screwing up even the best-laid plans.”
�
�So what are you saying? That you’re ready to give up without even a fight?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know what I’m saying.”
“Promise me you won’t leave, Maggie,” he said, unable to keep the desperation from his tone. “You have to give me time to sort this out.”
Closing her eyes, she nodded. “I promise.”
He breathed a quiet sigh of relief and pulled her into his arms. Burying his face in her strawberry blond curls, breathing in her sweet scent, he never wanted to let her go.
After a long moment Maggie pushed away. “I really do need to get home.”
He nodded. “I’ll walk you out.”
The air felt cool and crisp against his skin as he stepped outside. Everything looked fresh from last night’s cleansing rain. A mourning dove bid him good-day, singing its plaintive song from a nearby treetop. Barefoot, he crossed the backyard to Maggie’s house, holding her hand tightly in his.
When they paused at the steps of her back porch, he leaned down for one last kiss. Wishing he could tell her everything he felt in his heart, but uncertain if she was ready to know how much he cared, how much he loved her, his true feelings remained unspoken. Instead, he released her, whispering, “Have a good day, Maggie.”
The tension eased from her face long enough to allow a half smile. Then, without another word, she turned away and disappeared into her house.
Jason hesitated, standing in the dew-ladened grass, as a chill stole over him. Maggie trusted him. But perhaps he didn’t deserve that trust. She didn’t know the whole truth. She didn’t know about his call to Tom Burns in California.
It was too late to turn back now. Because of his own insecurities, he very well might have set into motion the events that would uncover Maggie’s secret. His friend in California would undoubtedly be concerned that Jason had become involved with a fugitive. He would press him to do something about it.
His hands fisting at his sides, Jason turned from Maggie’s house. He had less than a week to figure out damage control. Somehow he had to assure his friend that all was well, that it had been nothing more than a misunderstanding. That there was no need to be concerned.
No need to be concerned.
If only it was true.
Five days later, on a bright and sunny Friday morning when Jason stepped into the police-department offices, he was met by a flurry of frantic activity.
“Thank God, you’re here,” the dispatcher said, pressing a hand to her ample chest. “We’ve been trying to reach you on the radio.”
Jason’s face warmed with embarrassment. Up until an hour ago, he’d been asleep in Maggie’s arms. After a quick shower, he’d headed for work. His mood was so good he hadn’t wanted to ruin it by listening to any bad news on the radio. So he’d done the unforgivable and turned it off on his way into work.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, frowning.
“We’re in deep trouble, Chief,” Schmitz said, coming up from behind him. “Homer Bledsoe is gone.”
“Gone?” Jason blinked, feeling confused. “What do you mean, gone?”
Homer Bledsoe was a backwoodsman and a meanspirited alcoholic, who’d gotten drunk a couple of weeks ago and beaten his wife unconscious. Leaving her bruised and bleeding, he’d gone into town to celebrate with a few more drinks at Tuttle’s Tavern. When the bartender refused to serve him, he’d broken a chair over the man’s head. Then he’d proceeded to tear up the rest of the tavern.
Taking him down had been a difficult and costly task. Somewhere along the way, he’d found a shotgun. After unloading his supply of cartridges at two of Jason’s officers, Homer had thrown down the gun and tried to fight his way out of the situation. Officer Schmitz still wore the scar of a jagged cut on his forehead as his reward for finally subduing the dangerous drunk.
Denied bail, Homer had been in the city jail awaiting trial on a long list of charges. Due to the seriousness of his rampage and the fact that this was not his first offense, he was guaranteed to serve time in the state penitentiary. Bitter and blaming everyone but himself for his troubles, he was the last man Jason wanted to see out on the streets.
“It was a mistake, Chief,” Schmitz explained quietly. “Burt Johnson was supposed to be released last night. Somehow the paperwork got mixed up and Homer got out, instead. We didn’t realize there’d been a mix-up until a little while ago.”
“Do you mean to tell me we just let him walk out that door?” Jason said, jabbing a finger at the entryway. His voice sounded calm. But inside, he was churning with irritation.
More officers gathered around, looking worried.
Schmitz gave a curt nod. “That’s the way it looks, Chief.”
“How in Sam Hill did something like this happen?” Jason growled.
“We don’t know that for sure,” Schmitz said, shooting a sidelong glance at the night guard. The guard’s face flushed a deep red and he dropped his gaze to his feet. Schmitz continued, “But we’re still looking into it.”
Jason raked a hand through his damp curls. “Dammit, did anyone tell Homer’s wife yet? You know he blames her for everything that’s happened. He swore he was going to kill her when he got out.”
“Yes, sir,” another officer said. “She’s all right. Stan’s on his way out to her house right now to pick her up. He’s dropping her off at a safe place until her husband’s been recaptured.”
“Good.” Jason drew in a deep breath, giving himself a moment to gather his thoughts. “We’d better call the sheriff in on this. Homer’s a backwoodsman. He’s going to go underground. We’ll need the county’s help to flush him out.”
“I’ll get right on it, Chief,” Betty called out, putting on the telephone headset.
“Call everybody in. Night shift, as well as day,” Jason said, turning to Schmitz. “We’re going to need all the help we can get Make sure they bring their bullet-proof vests. I don’t want to take any chances.”
“Right,” Schmitz said, moving toward his desk.
The rest of the men scattered, hurrying to get ready.
Jason headed for his office. He hadn’t had time for breakfast. His empty stomach burned, feeling on fire. Damn, he muttered to himself, massaging his belly, what a way to start the day.
“Don’t forget your messages, Chief,” Betty said, waving a stack of papers in her hand.
He sighed again. Grabbing the messages, he continued on to his office. He didn’t get far, however. One message caught his eye and stopped him dead in his tracks. He strode back to the dispatcher and held out the message. “Betty, when did this message come in from California?”
She squinted at the note. “Must have been last night, Chief, after I left I wasn’t the one who took it.”
Tom Burns had been trying to get hold of him since Wednesday morning. During that time, Jason had done his best to avoid contact with his old friend. Unforgivably he’d ducked his calls and didn’t return his messages. It wasn’t that he was taking the coward’s way out, he told himself. He just wasn’t sure yet what he would say.
This message was different, however. It was marked “urgent,” and the word was underlined twice. He sighed, knowing he couldn’t avoid talking to Tom forever. As soon as he got a chance, he’d give him a call. Jason crumpled the note in his hand. Until then he had a job to do, a fugitive to catch. One that was a real threat to society.
Unbidden, Maggie’s image came to mind. Even though he’d had time to get used to the idea, he still couldn’t bring himself to call her a fugitive. There was no comparison between the crimes Homer Bledsoe had committed and the one Maggie had been forced to commit in the name of love for her son.
In his eyes, Maggie could never be a criminal.
Later that afternoon, Maggie shivered as she looked out the window of Mel’s diner, unable to shake the uncanny feeling that someone was watching her. It was a Friday afternoon, the unofficial beginning of the weekend. Already the street was filled with tourists, all hurrying to their various destinations: t
he antique shops, the ice-cream shop, the historical homes. No one appeared to be standing on the street staring at the diner.
Maggie sighed. The truth was, she’d been feeling jumpy ever since she’d confessed her secret to Jason. Not that she had a reason to be skittish. Jason had been nothing but supportive. In the past few days, he’d spent as much time as possible with Kevin and her. With every word he spoke, each action he took, he tried to ease her fears. He tried his best to make her believe they had a chance at a future together.
Beneath Jason’s persistent attention, Kevin had flourished. His arm was healing faster than she’d expected. So fast he was able to go to Tommy Marshall’s house, where Tommy’s mother had agreed to watch him now that school was out for the summer and Maggie still had to go to work. It was hard for Maggie to trust Kevin to someone else, but she had to begin sometime. And somehow Jason had become a vital part of their family, the positive male influence she’d longed for her son to have.
Life seemed perfect. Too perfect.
She wondered how long the illusion would last.
Maggie turned away from the window, trying vainly to push the bleak thoughts from her mind. Too often in the past she’d expected the worst, always waiting for the other shoe to drop. It was as though she believed she didn’t deserve to be happy.
But all that had changed, she told herself, when she’d met Jason. He’d made her believe in the power of love. He was the only man she’d ever trusted so completely.
“Maggie, it’s time to close up,” Mel announced, startling her out of her troubled thoughts. He pulled his chef’s hat off his head, revealing his shiny, bald pate.
“Already?” Maggie blinked at him in surprise. The lunch-hour rush had barely ended. There were at least two more hours left on her shift.
“Jenny’s getting married tonight, isn’t she?” he said, untying his apron.
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