Her Eyewitness

by Rita Herron

  “What have you been up to today, Mizz Green?”

  Sydney lifted her chin, then, in a dull voice, repeated the story he’d already told Raeburn.

  Sweat rolled down Raeburn’s beefy arms as he listened. “I guess you were pretty mad when you found out Doug had been sleeping around, huh?”

  “I wasn’t happy about it,” Sydney said in an uneven voice.

  “What did your husband say when you confronted him?”

  “I didn’t confront him.” Sydney knotted her hands in her lap. “I just found out about the affair and his ex-wife today.”

  “You’re sure about that now?” Raeburn asked sarcastically. “’Cause I think maybe you already knew. Maybe you and Doug had a big fight, and maybe he was a little ugly to you, Mizz Green, and you couldn’t stand it no more.”

  “That’s not what happened,” Sydney said, her voice rising in pitch. “I told you I just found out—”

  “I think you knew about the other women, you killed Doug, and then made it look as if there’d been an intruder. When Cash here showed up asking questions and talked about this other woman, you acted all surprised.”

  “No.” Sydney’s pale cheeks looked hollow. “No, that’s not true.”

  “Raeburn, she answered you—”

  “Then you decided he was asking too many questions and you got nervous, so you set fire to the inn—”

  “No!” Sydney said.

  “And he escaped. Then you tried to blow up his car.”

  “That’s a lie.” Sydney searched Collin’s face, doubts and worries darkening her eyes.

  Collin’s temper flared. Raeburn was doing his job, jumping to the same kind of conclusions and questions he would if he were in Raeburn’s shoes. But damn it, Raeburn was wrong. He’d stake his reputation on it.

  “Sydney was with me all day,” Collin interjected. “There’s no way she could have planted the bomb.”

  “How about this morning?” Raeburn suggested.

  “I stayed the night,” Collin said, realizing how the admission sounded when Sydney winced and Raeburn’s brow furrowed.

  “I see,” Raeburn said.

  “No, you don’t,” Collin said, fighting the urge to deck the officer. “I was worried about Sydney’s safety. I slept on her sofa. End of story.” He punctuated his words by jamming his finger at Raeburn’s chest. “And she and I have been together all day, so there’s no way she could be responsible for the bomb.”

  The fear in Sydney’s eyes disappeared slightly. He wished he could do something to alleviate all the shadows.

  Raeburn merely grunted, his jowls shaking as he pulled Collin aside. “I don’t know what your game is, Cash, but I think you’d better start thinking with your head, instead of what’s behind your zipper.” With that, the sergeant walked off to join the other investigators, and Collin muttered a curse.

  When he turned to Sydney, his body throbbed at the caring way she gazed at him. He had to hold her, had to make sure she was within reach. Hell, mete were no guarantees in life. He might die tomorrow or even tonight And he wouldn’t want to leave this world without making love to her at least one time.

  As THE INVESTIGATORS finished their work and impounded the remains of the car, Sydney tried to gather her shattered nerves. Collin had defended her in front of Raeburn. His vote of confidence touched chords of longing and affection in her that hadn’t been touched in a long time. He’d admitted that his relationship with her was strange, all tangled up with Doug, and she’d thought she could keep her feelings at bay, but a surge of wanting rose up that refused to be dismissed. Her love for Doug had died, was no longer a source of guilt eating away at her, but could she have feelings for another man so soon?

  And if someone had connected the two of them with Doug’s murder, they might be watching them now.

  His gaze found hers and he smiled slowly, then walked up the porch steps, his shoulders hunched as if he was tired, his gaze steady.

  “I’m sorry about your car,” Sydney said, staring at the ashes.

  He shrugged. “It was an old Bronco. About time I replaced it.”

  She smiled at his attempt to make light of the matter, then opened the door and went inside. He followed, his masculine scent mingling with the smoke from the bomb, reminding her of his close call and how she’d felt when she’d seen the blast throw him to the ground. She turned to face him when they entered her den. “Thank you for defending me in front of Raeburn.”

  “I told the truth,” Collin said in a low voice. He stroked her chin with the soft pad of his thumb. “You and I were together all day.” His eyes grew dark and pensive. “And I saw how shocked you were when that bomb exploded.”

  The memory of flying metal and sparks caused a tremor to run through her. He must have sensed it because he moved closer to her, putting his hands on her waist. “Collin, I really think you should go,” Sydney said, starting to back away.

  “What? You think I’d leave you alone now, after a bomb exploded in your driveway?”

  “You can’t stay here—it’s not safe,” Sydney said, hating the fear in her voice.

  He stared at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable, then ran his finger gently down her jaw. “Do you really want me to go, Sydney?”

  She swallowed, trying to make her voice work. “I don’t want you to be hurt because of me,” she finally said. “I couldn’t live with myself if...if something happened to you.”

  “I’m a big boy,” Collin said. “I make my own decisions, Sydney, and there’s no way I’m leaving you now.” He lowered his mouth, his lips seeking hers hungrily, and Sydney succumbed as he drew her nearer. She felt the slight stubble on his jaw as he brushed his face against her cheek, then inhaled the smoke lingering on his skin. Her hands tangled in his hair, holding him tightly with all the passion and worry that had been building in her chest for days. His arms slid around her, his hands stroked her back, the long column of her spine, then they cupped her bottom and he pulled her firmly against him, tucking her into the heat of his arousal.

  “No, we can’t,” Sydney said, jerking away. She pressed her hand over her chest, heaving for air, her breathing unsteady.

  “Why not?” Collin asked, his hands fisting beside him. “Is it because you’re still in love with Doug?”

  She stared at him in shock, the blood roaring in her ears.

  “Even after all the things he did to you, you’re still grieving for him,” he said in a voice filled with defeat.

  “It’s not like that,” she whispered fiercely. “But I told you, I couldn’t stand it if anything happened to you. And ever since you met me, weird things have been happening.”

  “Weird things started happening before I met you.” Collin ran a hand through his hair.

  “What do you mean?” Sydney asked, surprised by the seriousness of his voice.

  He paced across the room. “Maybe you’d better sit down.”

  “Why? Is there something you’re not telling me?”

  For a long second he merely stood there, looking as if he was trying to decide whether or not to break some awful news to her.

  “Come on, Collin, you might as well spill it.” She swung her hands around, suddenly furious. “Whatever you have to tell me can’t get much worse, can it? Doug was murdered, the police think I did it, he had a mistress, an ex-wife, he cheated his own company...” Her voice was starting to sound hysterical so she paused, striving for calm when she felt like screaming.

  “It’s not about Doug. It’s about me,” he said calmly.

  She wrapped her arms around herself. “What are you talking about?” Her eyes widened with suspicion. “You’re not married, too, are you?”

  He gripped her arms in his hands, his face tormented. “No, Sydney, I’m not married.” He coaxed her toward the sofa and sat down beside her, his hands resting on his knees.

  “I didn’t tell you this when I first came because I didn’t want to frighten you. But since the transplant I..I’ve
been having these visions. I think I’m seeing Doug’s murder in them.”

  Her heart pounded. “I don’t understand. Are you telling me you’re psychic?”

  “No, it’s even stranger than that.” He paused, as if searching for the words. “After the transplant, when the doctor first unwrapped the bandages from my eyes, I saw a man being shot.”

  His eerie tone chilled her to the bone.

  “I thought it was impossible at first, that maybe I was hallucinating from the drugs they’d given me during surgery, but it’s happened again since.”

  “But how could you...?”

  He explained about the doctor’s theory and the experimental drugs. “So it’s not only you that’s keeping me here, Sydney. I have to know if what I’m seeing is really Doug’s murder, if I’m a witness.”

  Sydney stared at him, too stunned to speak. He really believed he was an eyewitness to Doug’s murder?

  “I know it sounds bizarre.” He covered her hand with his, and her skin tingled. “But I saw the gun, Doug falling on the green rug.”

  Sydney gasped and stood, putting some distance between them. This was crazy talk. There had to be an explanation. But how could he have known about the green rug?

  “When did you see the rug?”

  “In this vision I’ve been telling you about. There was blood all over it.”

  “But I changed that rug before you came here. How would you know, unless...” Unless he’d been in her bedroom before, unless he had killed Doug.

  The back of her thighs hit the edge of the end table as she stumbled away from him, fear ballooning inside her. “You...yon saw his murder or you killed him?”

  His eyes darkened. “Wait a minute, Sydney—”

  “Oh, my gosh. You killed him, then you came here after me? If it’s because you think I saw you, I didn’t I didn’t see anyone.” Her pulse raced as she glanced at the door, planning her escape. Bits and pieces of the past few days swept through her mind: the graveyard, his questions about Doug, his showing up when McKenzie was at her apartment...

  Collin held his hands up pleadingly. “Look, Sydney, your imagination is running wild. You know I didn’t kill Doug.”

  “I don’t know anything,” Sydney said, backing away. “Except that the way you showed up at the graveyard that day was eerie, and then you were following me when my car crashed into the ocean—”

  “And I rescued you,” Collin reminded her in a calm voice. “Think about it—why would I have done that if I wanted to kill you?”

  Her mind struggled to make sense of it all. But how could he have seen Doug’s murder if he hadn’t been there? Could his story be possible?

  “If I had killed Doug, Sydney, and wanted you out of the way, too, I would have let you drown that day. There would’ve been no reason for me to drag you from the water.” He gestured toward the door. “And what about the fire and the bomb? Why would I do those things to myself?”

  “To throw suspicion off yourself,” Sydney said.

  Collin’s eyes darkened with hurt. “You don’t really believe that, do you?” He shook his head, his voice heavy with emotions. “Tell me you don’t. You know I would never hurt you.” He inched forward, and Sydney froze, her back pressed against the doorjamb.

  “I think you know deep down inside I care about you. Listen to your heart, Sydney,” Collin urged softly.

  A lump rose in her throat. “I did that before, with Doug.” Her voice broke. “But he lied, over and over and over...”

  Collin stroked her hair, his touch tender and reassuring, and Sydney sensed he wouldn’t hurt her, knew he was telling the truth.

  “I’ll give you my doctor’s name and you can call him yourself,” Collin suggested. “Ask him if I’m telling the truth.” His breath fanned her face and Sydney trembled, clenching her hands by her side so she wouldn’t touch him.

  “Trust yourself, Sydney,” he coaxed in a husky tone. “I know Doug hurt you, but I’m not Doug.” He lifted her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes. The eyes were the windows of the soul, her grandmother used to say.

  “Look at me. I may have Doug’s eyes, but I’m not Doug. I won’t hurt you, ever.”

  No, his eyes were kind, full of feelings. And the desire lacing his voice sent a ripple of sensual delight through her. Her fear receded slowly, gradually, leaving an onslaught of need in its wake. Aching, hungry need.

  “Come on, Sydney. Trust me.” He paused, his fingers trailing gently down her arm. Caressing. Soft. Coaxing. His lips brushed hers with such sweet tenderness that she lost her breath. “Trust yourself, sweetheart.”

  The warmth of his smile echoed in his voice and Sydney found herself leaning into him, touched by his patience, seduced by the magic of his fingertips on her bare arm. But still he waited, his dark gaze filled with longing, the heat in his smile unraveling the protective web she’d spun around her heart.

  “The car crash almost killed you, and I almost got blown away today. Someone knows we’ve been snooping around together, hunting for clues about Doug’s murder.” His jaw tightened with restraint and his finger stroked her chin, his other hand slowly dancing along her spine. “After all those months of darkness, Sydney, I want to hold you, to feel that you’re real, that we’re both alive.”

  He caressed her temple with the pad of his thumb and Sydney sighed, knowing if it was dangerous to be with Collin, she was ready to face the worst. She’d been cold and lonely when Doug had been alive, empty and unsatisfied. But Collin could take away the aching loneliness. Could fill the emptiness with pleasure and warmth.

  She slowly raised her hand and placed it against his jaw, stroking the stubble-roughened skin. Her simple touch was all the encouragement he needed. He swept her into his arms, slanting his mouth over hers greedily. His hands kneaded her back, stroked her shoulders, cupped her bottom. Passion quickly blazed through her, warmth pooling in her abdomen, her hesitation gone as her own hands clutched his arms. Her fingers dug into his hair and she opened her mouth, meeting his tongue with her own, excitement flaring as they melded together. Sydney sighed in contentment, for the first time in months feeling as if the dark void in her life could be filled with light

  Collin nibbled on her earlobe, kissed the soft, sensitive skin on her neck while his hands roamed up from her waist to cup her breasts, kneading and massaging them with his palms. “I’ve wanted yon for so long,” he whispered hotly.

  “I want you, too,” Sydney mumbled. He pulled back and studied her, his eyes intense with raw desire.

  “You’re sure?”

  The concern m his voice drove her wild with desire. “I’m sure.” She took his hand and led him to her bedroom, then left him standing by the doorway while she drew the curtains and turned down the comforter on the bed. When she glanced back at Collin, he was watching her, all male need and want. The realization that he was waiting for her to take the lead astounded her, aroused her even more, and she knew that, as powerful and strong 88 he was, he would never hurt her. He was an honorable man with a sexual magnetism that bordered on dishonorable, a man who ignited her passions by simply walking into the room. He lit the group of candles beside her bed, and a thrill of frightened anticipation touched her spine. She’d always wanted to make love by candlelight And she was so totally enthralled by the blatant look of lust in his eyes her nipples puckered, pushing against the constraints of her bra.

  “I want to see you,” he admitted softly. “I lived in the darkness for so long. I want to enjoy every inch of you.”

  His heartfelt admission twisted her insides, freeing her shyness, and she slid the material of her cotton shell off her shoulders, watching with delight as a devilish gleam lit his handsome face. “You take my breath away,” he whispered hoarsely.

  Then he moved toward her, his hands gently raking over the curves of her body, her own hands racing down his back as he bent and kissed her breasts. Soft flesh met muscular, primal urges danced with fantasies of hot sex and bold loving, and Sydney moa
ned when he slipped her shorts over her hips, then found her breast with his mouth and laved her nipple. His hands molded her flesh as his lips closed around the pouty point through the thin lacy bra.

  She clung to him, her knees buckling, and he caught her in his arms, holding her upright as he moved to the other breast and suckled her, strong and hard as if he couldn’t get enough of her taste. Then his fingers skimmed over her heat, sliding between her thighs, stroking the soft skin between her legs, and she cried out his name, hungry to feel his bare skin beneath her fingers.

  Sensing her need, he tossed his shirt to the floor. The strength of his broad, muscular chest mesmerized her, and she whimpered when she finally touched his hot skin. She ran her hands over his shoulders, down his arms, and fire ignited at her fingertips when she encountered his rough, hair-dusted skin. She circled his taut nipples with her fingers, and he threw back his head with a guttural groan that made her want to push him down on the floor and ravage him as she’d never ravaged a man before. She didn’t care that he had Doug’s eyes, that he might be helping her out of some misguided need to repay a debt.

  She only knew that his touch was explosive, his hands a mystical form of ecstasy as they drew her down on her bed and stripped away the remaining thin barriers of her clothing. Then he lowered his head and placed his mouth at the heart of her passion, and she arched and cried out his name, telling him how she desperately needed to feel him inside her.

  He brushed kisses along her swollen heat, then parted her thighs and drove her mad with hunger when his mouth closed over her again. When she thought she could stand it no more, he stood, stripped off his jeans and boxers and rose above her. She closed her hand around him and he moaned, pure male satisfaction etched on his face, and she thought her body would explode from want. His glorious sex brushed her thigh as he moved, and when his hot gaze searched hers for affirmation, she whispered his name and cupped his buttocks with her hands, smiling when his taut muscles flexed in her palms. He took her mouth, hungry and hard, and coaxed her with his hands and body, tasting, teasing, eliciting moans of pleasure that had her bucking and begging him to enter her.