Amanda Stevens Bestseller Collection: Stranger In Paradise/A Baby's Cry

by Amanda Stevens

  “I suppose that’s possible,” Matthew said slowly. He gazed at Emily for a very long time, wondering if he could trust her. Could she really not have known what was going on back then? Was she really as guileless as she seemed? After all that Matthew had lived through, all that he’d seen, it was hard to believe that anyone could be so artless.

  But sitting there in that dying garden, with the wind ruffling her dark hair and her huge brown eyes full of warmth and sincerity and just a hint of wariness, Matthew found himself drowning in the possibilities. In her jeans, cotton flannel shirt and denim jacket, she looked soft and petite, but there was nothing girlish about her. Emily Townsend was all woman, and Matthew found himself responding to her in a very masculine way.

  He wanted, suddenly, to kiss those full, lush lips of hers, to pull her close and hold her against him for a very long time. He wanted to unbutton her jacket, slip his hands inside her shirt and feel the smoothness of her pale skin. He wanted to hear her moan beneath him, then have her reach for him again….

  But there was something else. Something far more disturbing than the desire.

  In the fading light, she looked young and innocent and strangely vulnerable, and Matthew realized, almost too late, that what he wanted to do more than anything was to protect her. Shield her from his suspicions. Spirit her away before she could learn any more distressing revelations.

  That there would be more disclosures, perhaps even more disturbing than what they had uncovered today, Matthew had no doubt. Paradise was full of secrets, and he wouldn’t rest until he’d exposed every single one of them.

  And Emily, he very much feared, would be caught in the cross fire.

  There was no help for that. He had sworn to do everything he could to find out what had really happened in Paradise fifteen years ago, and if Emily Townsend got hurt, if she lost her innocence in the process, well, that was just too damned bad.

  TWILIGHT FELL as they snaked their way back up the road to Paradise. Without the sunshine, the wind was merciless, and a fine mist had descended from the mountains. Emily huddled against Matthew’s back, wondering miserably how he stood the sharp lashing his face must be taking. He was still bareheaded, and now, with dusk settling all around them, he didn’t even have sunglasses to protect his face from the cold.

  But if he suffered, he suffered in silence. Emily had no indication that he was even aware of the nasty weather. Or of the road conditions. He still drove fast, even though the misty dampness made the pavement slick and treacherous.

  Emily wanted to call out to him to please slow down, but for some reason, she didn’t dare. After they left the nursing home, he’d grown silent and moody, and Emily had the distinct impression that there were times when some internal demon drove him. Tonight was one of those times.

  And so she kept her silence and clung to him, and every once in a while she would glance toward the edge of the road, where the steep embankment plunged headlong into the deeper darkness of the valley below. The other side, the cliff side, was even darker, a sheer black wall where rank upon rank of cedars charged up the looming side of the mountain.

  A car came around one of the hairpin curves, taking it fast, crowding the motorcycle to the far outside. The rear tire touched gravel, spun, then gripped the pavement. Matthew slowed, regaining control of the Harley.

  Emily couldn’t hear anything over the roar of the engine, but she could imagine the stones that had been loosened tumbling down the embankment, rolling over and over into the blackness. She shivered, wishing they were home, wishing for a fire and dry clothes and a steaming cup of hot chocolate.

  Matthew turned his head and shouted over his shoulder, something that sounded like “You okay?” but the wind tore his words away.

  Emily nodded and clutched him tighter. He seemed satisfied with that as an answer, for he opened the throttle and they were once again plunging through darkness, sailing without a care up that steep and winding hillside.

  What made her look up, Emily never knew. It wasn’t a sound that drew her attention, for the roar of the motorcycle obliterated all else. It wasn’t a movement, for in the darkness, with only a hint of moonlight glimmering sporadically off rock, visibility was limited. But something caught Emily’s attention. Something made her glance up, and as she stared up the sheer face of the cliff, her heart leaped into her throat.

  There were signs all along the road warning of rockslides, but in all the time Emily had lived in Paradise, she’d never actually seen one. Until now.

  It looked as if a huge piece of the mountain had broken away and was now hurtling toward the bottom, gaining momentum with every rotation and loosening a treacherous shower of smaller stones and gravel.

  Emily clutched Matthew’s arm. She pointed toward the mountain. The boulder was rolling faster now, and it was almost upon them. There was no way they could out run it, nothing else Matthew could do. He released the throttle and hit the brakes. The tires screamed in protest and slid sickeningly on the wet pavement. The motorcycle lurched sideways, still sliding. Emily screamed and clung to Matthew for all she was worth as he fought valiantly for control of the bike.

  The boulder, like a giant bowling ball, rolled over everything in its path, soared off a jagged precipice and struck the pavement mere inches in front of them, bouncing like a rubber ball over the side of the embankment.

  The motorcycle careened out of control toward the edge, as if following in the wake of the boulder. Matthew threw his weight against the momentum and put a leg down to balance the bike. Finally, after heart-stopping seconds of madness, everything came to a swift and silent standstill.

  By some miracle, they were still upright. The rear of the bike was precariously close to the steep slope, and as Emily looked down, she grew dizzy, just thinking about what could have happened. They had come within inches of either being smashed to bits by the boulder or being sent crashing down the side of the embankment.

  Even now, Emily imagined that she could hear the sound of the boulder rolling over and over as it raced toward the bottom. But when Matthew killed the engine, there was nothing but eerie silence.

  They both got off the bike, and Matthew pushed it back up on the pavement. The center of the highway, where the boulder had struck, looked like the shell of a cracked Easter egg. Emily shuddered, looking at it.

  Feeling light-headed and slightly nauseous, she reached up and jerked the helmet off her head. She gulped in the cold mountain air, trying to steady her nerves. “We could have been killed,” she gasped.

  Matthew was staring up the side of the cliff. In the distance, Emily heard the sound of a car engine and thought fleetingly that they should probably move off the road. After narrowly avoiding one disaster, she certainly didn’t want to get hit head-on by another one. However, the sound faded, and she guessed the car was traveling in the opposite direction.

  Matthew turned to her suddenly, as if he’d just remembered she was with him. “Are you okay?”

  “Fine,” she said. “Peachy.”

  “That was too damned close.”

  “I’ve heard of rockslides before,” Emily said. “I even had a friend in third grade whose uncle was killed by one, but that’s the first time I’ve ever seen it firsthand. What do you suppose could have loosened a boulder that large?”

  “Good question.” Matthew’s gaze moved back up the side of the mountain.

  Shock was beginning to set in for Emily, and she started to tremble. Her teeth were chattering, too, and in a moment, she knew, she’d probably burst into tears. She wasn’t good with disasters, she’d discovered. Narrowly missed or otherwise.

  Matthew saw her shaking and put his arm around her shoulder. “Sure you’re okay?”

  “I’ve never been so frightened in my life,” she admitted. He tightened his arm around her, and Emily clung to his warmth. He felt solid and strong, and she buried her face in his shoulder. His other arm came around her, pulling her even closer.

  “Hey, it’s okay,�
�� he murmured. “We made it. We’re safe.”

  “I know, but…we could have been killed,” Emily said. Her breath caught on a sob, and she thought, What a time to lose my nerve.

  She would have liked to impress Matthew with her bravery and her careless disregard for life and limb, but she’d just had the daylights scared out of her, and there was no way she could pretend she was having fun.

  “I want to go home,” she whispered against Matthew’s shoulder.

  “I’ll get you there,” he promised. He wove his hands through her hair and lifted her face, saying softly, “Emily, I’m really sorry.”

  “For what? You didn’t send that boulder crashing down the mountainside. It was just a…a freak accident. These things happen.”

  “Maybe.” But he didn’t sound convinced. He pulled her to him, and Emily’s breath caught again—not from fear this time, but from his closeness. From the way he held her. From the way his voice sounded when he whispered her name.

  They stood gazing at each other in the darkness, awareness a tangible thing between them. The silence seemed to stretch forever. Finally, without taking the time to consider the consequences, Emily lifted her hand to Matthew’s cheek.

  He closed his eyes, as if relishing her touch, and drew a ragged breath. “Emily.”

  “Yes?”

  “This thing between us.” He drew another breath and looked away. Emily let her hand drop from his cheek, feeling a little knot of dread settle in the pit of her stomach. He forced his eyes to meet hers. “It can’t happen.”

  Emily felt as if he had just slapped her. Her pride stung from the blow, and she took a step or two backward, reeling from shock and humiliation. “You’re married,” she blurted.

  “No. It’s not that.”

  “Involved, then.”

  “There’s no one else. It’s just—” Matthew broke off, shoving his fingers through his hair.

  “Please,” Emily said. “Say no more. I understand, and it doesn’t matter. I’m not exactly in the market for a relationship, either. I haven’t even been divorced a year, and God knows I don’t need another complication in my life right now—” She broke off, realizing she was babbling to cover her embarrassment. She turned away.

  “Emily, it’s not you.”

  Of course it was her. Why else would an unattached man reject a woman who was practically throwing herself at him? It had to be her. But Emily managed to shrug nonchalantly. “I know.”

  “No, you don’t know, but it’s the truth.” She had her back to him. His hands closed over her arms, but he didn’t try to turn her. Instead, he pulled her back gently against his chest and rested his chin on the top of her head.

  “It’s not you,” he repeated, his voice a deep, rumbling vibration in his chest as Emily tried to relax against him. “It’s me. I can’t get involved with anyone right now. There are too many things in my past that have to be resolved first. I’ve done some terrible things, Emily.”

  Emily’s heart began a slow, painful dance inside her chest. Now that the desire between them had been diluted by his rejection, the immediate situation in which she found herself became crystal-clear. She was standing on a dark and lonely road, miles from anywhere, with a handsome stranger she knew nothing about. A stranger that others seemed to fear.

  She shuddered. “What kind of things?”

  “Things someone like you wouldn’t understand.”

  “Does it have anything to do with why Nella and Miss Rosabel had such strange reactions to you?”

  His hands tightened on her arms for a moment. “I’ve never been to Paradise before,” he told her. “I’ve never met any of these people. If they react to me, it’s probably because I’m a stranger.”

  A gray-eyed stranger who rode a motorcycle. Perhaps that was all it was, Emily thought. But deep in her heart she knew there was more to Matthew Steele than he had told her. So much more.

  She thought she felt his lips against her hair, and the movement—imagined or not—made her want to turn in his arms and stare up at him. But she was afraid to. Afraid of what she might see in those beautiful gray eyes.

  As if he sensed her doubts, his hands dropped from her arms. He said abruptly, “We’d better head back.”

  Emily felt bereft. A part of her wanted to stay there on that lonely mountainside with Matthew forever, and another part of her—the wiser part, perhaps—wanted to run. She turned slowly to face him. “Matthew?”

  He was walking toward the Harley, and he didn’t turn.

  Emily got the message. Enough had been said for one night. She followed him, and he wordlessly handed her the helmet. She put it on, then climbed on the bike behind him. Her arms went around him, and for the briefest moment, he laid his hands over hers. It was a tender, reassuring gesture that for some insane reason made Emily want to cry.

  Chapter Six

  Emily tried to avoid Matthew’s eyes when they walked into the brightly lit kitchen at the inn, but it was difficult in the close confines. They kept bumping into each other, setting off little explosions of awareness inside Emily.

  Finally, in exasperation, she took the coffeepot from his hands and said, “Here, let me do that. You’re a paying guest.”

  “We’re also partners,” Matthew said, but he relinquished the coffeepot and the sack of coffee beans as if he, too, were bothered by the constant contact.

  Emily’s heart took a bounce at his words, but she managed to say calmly, “Partners, are we? Then how come I feel as if you’re the one with all the answers?”

  “That’s only an illusion,” Matthew assured her. He opened a cupboard, searching for cups.

  “Next one,” Emily directed him as she placed the beans in the grinder. For a moment, the noise silenced their conversation, but once she was finished, Emily picked right up where they’d left off. “You knew exactly what you wanted to ask Miss Rosabel before we went to see her, didn’t you?”

  “I told you I was interested in the case,” Matthew said. “I did some research before I came here.”

  Why did she not believe him? Emily wondered. Or, at the very least, why did she think there was more to his story than he was telling her?

  “Tonight proves we’re on the right track,” he said grimly.

  Emily glanced up. “What do you mean?”

  “I’m talking about the boulder. That was no accident, Emily.”

  Emily gasped. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying someone was on that mountain, waiting for us. I’m saying they deliberately sent that boulder crashing down on us.”

  Emily stared at him in astonishment. “You mean you think…someone tried to kill us? Why, for God’s sake?”

  “To stop us from asking questions.”

  Emily felt stunned. When she’d first approached Mike Durbin about doing a series of articles on the murder, she’d had no idea how quickly things could get out of hand.

  “My God,” she breathed. “Do you actually think someone tried to kill us?”

  “I don’t know.” Matthew gestured impatiently with his hand. “Maybe they just intended to frighten us and the boulder came closer than they meant. Didn’t you hear a car start up?”

  “Yes, but I just thought—”

  Matthew broke in. “I don’t think it was a coincidence. I think they were up there waiting for us, and when the trap was sprung, they drove off in a big hurry.”

  “But how could they have known when we would be coming back along that particular stretch of road? It doesn’t make sense.”

  “It does if they followed us down. They knew we’d be coming back sometime today. They could have rigged up some kind of trigger or lever under the boulder while we were talking to Miss Rosabel. Then all they had to do was sit tight and wait for us. How many motorcycles did you see out on the road today?”

  Good point. Emily said, “Who do you think it was?”

  “I have no idea. But I do know one thing. Someone is getting nervous about our little investigat
ion.”

  “Which means someone in town has something to hide.”

  “Exactly.”

  Emily poured the coffee and brought the two steaming mugs over to the table. She pulled out a chair and sat down. “Do you think we should go to the sheriff?”

  Matthew shrugged. “I don’t think it would do much good. We don’t have any proof, and besides, you heard what Miss Rosabel said. She thinks the sheriff was involved with the Avengers. And if the Avengers were somehow involved in Jenny’s murder or Wade’s disappearance, I don’t think we can look to the sheriff for help.”

  Emily shivered as his words sunk in. “Do you really think someone tried to kill us tonight, Matthew?”

  He gave her a long, measured look. “I honestly don’t know. But if you want to pull out of this thing, Emily, no one’s going to blame you.”

  No one but herself. Emily thought about the warnings she’d gotten, first from Trey Huntington, then from her brother. It made her angry to think of the way they were still treating her, like a not-too-bright child who needed to be told what to do.

  Well, Emily wasn’t a child. She was a grown woman, and if she’d had any doubts about that before, she sure didn’t now. Not after her reaction to Matthew earlier, out there on the highway.

  But he’d made it perfectly clear there could never be a romantic partnership between them, and now that the initial sting of his rejection had faded, Emily had to admit his decision was probably a wise one. She’d made too many mistakes in the past, too, and she certainly didn’t want Matthew Steele to be another.

  She was attracted to him. No doubt about that. But Emily had always been drawn to a walk on the wild side, and as she gazed at Matthew now, she had the feeling that was exactly where a relationship with him would take her.