Wolf Island

by Cheryl Gorman

  “Speaking of romance ...” She laid her hand on his chest. “Are you ready for bed now?”

  Devlin gazed at her and saw heat and hunger in her eyes, but also amazing tenderness. He swept her up into his arms and carried her back into the castle and down the spiral staircase. Once back in his room, he brushed his hand over her cheek as he set her on her feet. “If you want romance, Abigail, I’ll give it to you.”

  He left her standing there and gathered some candles. As he touched a match to each wick, he kept glancing at her. He wanted to feel her.

  Now.

  Skin to skin. She started to remove her clothes, but he stopped her. “Tonight is all for you, baby. I want to undress you. Slowly.”

  Once the candles glowed softly, he ventured to her room and brought back three roses from the vase Otis had placed on her nightstand.

  Devlin stroked her lips with the petals, then handed one of the buds to her, leaned over, and kissed her softly on the mouth, followed by a slow sweep of his tongue over her lips. He turned down the bed, crushed the roses in his hand, and scattered the petals over the sheets.

  Slowly, he removed her clothes, kissing the exposed skin as he went. Finally, she stood naked before him. “God, you’re beautiful.” His voice cracked with emotion.

  She unfastened his shirt and stroked her hands over his chest. “So are you.” He had never known a woman to desire him this much. But here was Abby, the most wonderful, loving woman he had ever known, standing before him telling him she wanted him -- not just with her words, but with her eyes, her hands, her heart.

  He reached out to caress her breasts. Abby sucked in a breath. Warmth gathered on his skin and rushed to his groin, needing her to touch and soothe the ache between his legs. He moved his gaze from her head to her feet, savoring every inch of creamy skin.

  Gently, he lifted her up into his arms. He wanted her naked -- not just physically, but emotionally.

  “Devlin, I love you.” The whispered words caressed his soul. Her eyes filled with sensual promise.

  He laid her on the bed. “I love you, too. Don’t ever doubt that. Now, bend your knees for me. I want to taste you.”

  Slowly, she bent her knees. He parted her with his fingers. “Pretty. You’re so unbelievably pretty here.” He stroked his thumb over her and watched the pleasure radiate over her face and make her eyes glaze.

  He spread her legs a little more, opened his mouth, and licked her from bottom to top. Again. And again.

  Another swipe of his tongue and the passion tossed her up like a wave cresting. He pressed his tongue to her body and felt her throb all the way to his toes. Devlin didn’t lift his mouth until her orgasm had faded and she’d come back to herself again.

  He took his mouth away and heard a whimper escape her lips. In seconds, he stripped down to his skin, his penis hard and ready between his legs. He laid over her, fitted his mouth to hers, and kissed her.

  Tenderly, he opened her legs even wider, then plunged in one easy glide until he filled her. He moved slowly at first, wanting to draw out the pleasure for them both.

  Passion sucked him under. He thought only of her and where their bodies joined. His rhythm grew faster. Sweat glistened on her skin, and all the while he made love to her, he stared into her eyes. He knew the moment she came. “I love you, Abby. With all my heart, I love you.” With a moan of pleasure, he spilled his seed inside her.

  · * * * *

  Abby woke slowly, wrapped in Devlin’s arms and draped around his body. Sunlight and birdsong floated in through the window. She didn’t want to open her eyes; she wanted to stay there with him forever. Abby felt the tips of his fingers nudge her chin up and then the warm touch of his lips. “Good morning, sleepyhead. Or I should say, afternoon.”

  “Is it afternoon already?”

  “Yeah. Would you like to get up and go scrounge for some food, or would you rather take a long shower with me?”

  “Hmmm, shower. Then coffee.”

  In less than ten minutes, Devlin had her soaring toward another mind-bending orgasm. He pushed her against the wall of the shower and took her fast and hard this time.

  When she came, the sensuous pulse punched through her like a hot velvet wave. Devlin followed her over the edge, the muscles in his back tense and straining.

  By the time they stepped out of the shower, the water had gone nearly cold. Devlin rubbed a big, soft towel over her, being careful between her legs. She winced just a little when the towel touched her tender areas.

  “You’re sore, aren’t you? It’s going to take some time for you to get used to taking me. I intend to take you frequently, so we’ll have to go easy on the showers for a while.” He stroked his fingers over her face. “I hope I wasn’t too rough, but when I got you all naked and wet, it made me crazy.”

  A delicious burst of female satisfaction filled her. She, Abigail Chapel, drove a man like Devlin wild. “No, you weren’t too rough. I loved every minute of it.”

  Devlin kissed her deeply and was removing the towel from her body, his hands beginning to roam again, when they heard pounding on the bedroom door.

  “Mr. Dev! Mr. Dev!” Otis shouted through the door.

  Abby slipped into her robe, and Devlin wrapped a towel around his waist. She padded behind him to the door. Otis stood there, his black eyes worried and his face creased with anxiety. “There’s something the two of you need to see.”

  Abby’s warm, sensuous thoughts of a moment ago plummeted. “What’s happened?”

  “Just get dressed and come downstairs.”

  Abby and Devlin dressed quickly, then headed for the kitchen. When they came to the top of the stairs, they saw Otis standing halfway down the staircase. Devlin put his arm around Abby, and together they walked down the stairs.

  Otis pointed to the painting of Devlin’s mother hanging on the wall. Abby gasped at the sight before her. Devlin tightened his arm around her waist and hugged her to his side. His mother’s portrait hung crooked. The canvas had been slashed, and hanging from the top of the frame was a crude effigy of Abby, with red paint splattered over the doll and some wire from a set of chimes coiled around the neck. Taped to the doll’s hand, a piece of paper with Whore scrawled across it froze Devlin’s blood.

  “Oh, my God. He’s after Abby.”

  · * * * *

  “Crazy bastard’s been busy.” Sheriff Dutton examined the ripped painting and the doll dangling from the frame.

  He glanced at Abby, then went back to his work. She stood next to Devlin on the stairs, his face a mask of worry.

  The sheriff turned and looked at Abby with sharp hazel eyes. Cop’s eyes. “You don’t have to watch, Ms. Chapel, while we do the preliminary investigation. I’ll need to ask you both some questions, but we can do that in the kitchen.”

  “No, I’m okay.”

  Devlin put his arm around her. “Go ahead to the kitchen. I’m sure Otis could use some help making sandwiches and coffee.”

  Abby smiled up at him, and her heart softened. He was always trying to protect her. To keep her from any harm or even from witnessing the horrible threat. “Since when does Otis need help in the kitchen? I’m fine.”

  If this had happened when she first arrived, she might be tempted to find a cozy corner to hide in, but no way was she leaving now. It frightened her that Victor Morgan had entered the castle while everyone lay sleeping. She shuddered and silently sent up a prayer of thanks that no one had been injured. Or, God forbid, killed.

  “Dev.” Sheriff Dutton brought her attention back to the ruined painting. “Who found the doll?”

  “Otis.”

  “Did anyone touch the painting or the doll before you called us?”

  Devlin slipped his hand under the back of Abby’s hair and massaged her neck. She remembered how he had rubbed her shoulders the night before and what his comforting touch had led to later.

  She’d like nothing better than to go upstairs, crawl into Devlin’s bed, and lose herself in making lov
e. But Victor Morgan was coming closer, and ignoring him was asking for trouble.

  “No, Jake, we didn’t touch anything” Irritation tinged his voice. “Otis found the doll; then he told Abby and me. Only the three of us have been near the painting. Right after I saw it, I notified your office.”

  “Good. We’ll need every clue we can get to find this creep and lock him up for good this time.”

  Abby looked at the sheriff. “How long do you think it will take to catch him or even find him?”

  The sheriff jotted down a note, then glanced at her. “I thought we would have had him by now, but considering what we just found, I have another idea. After I’m done, we’ll talk.”

  Abby watched Jake Dutton take pictures of the painting, the doll, and the muddy footprints on the carpet, as well as dust for prints. Then he carefully removed the painting from the wall, wrapped it in brown paper, and marked the front for identification. He bagged samples of the mud left on the carpet.

  Otis stepped up to them. “There’s food and coffee in the kitchen when you’re ready for it.”

  Jake walked over to Devlin, his notepad in hand. “Did you hear anything unusual at all last night, Dev?”

  “When I went to bed at three a.m., everything was normal. He must have come in after that.”

  Jake looked at Otis. “What about you?”

  “I went to bed right after you left.”

  The sheriff looked at Devlin. “I’m trying to get a ballpark on when he gained entrance to the castle. So, figure between three and eight this morning. Water dripped on the carpet, along with the mud. The muddy prints lead from here to a door off the kitchen. I went in there, but it seems to be just a pantry. Is there an entrance we don’t know about?”

  Abby took Devlin’s hand. “Since I arrived at the castle, I’ve heard scraping noises quite often, but when I investigated I found nothing.”

  He brushed the back of his hand over her cheek. “The castle has several secret passages, including one in the back wall of the pantry.” He kissed Abby’s knuckles. “Come, I’ll show you.”

  The sheriff followed them into the kitchen. Devlin opened the door to the pantry, walked in, and switched on the overhead light. “Right here.” He ran his fingers under the end of the middle shelf. Abby heard a soft click, and a hidden door opened with a slight creak. They saw the footprints continue into the passage and disappear in the darkness.

  Jake stepped forward to get a closer look. “That’s handy. When was this passageway installed?”

  “All of the passages were installed when the castle was built. I understand that one of my ancestors had a thing going with the cook’s assistant.” Devlin turned to Abby and stroked a finger over her nose. “She used this passage to meet him for their little trysts in the guestroom where you stayed originally.”

  Abby smiled. “There is so much history here, just in the castle. Maybe once everything is settled, you’ll show me some of the old records.”

  “Glad to.”

  “If you don’t mind, leave this open so I can investigate.” The sheriff stepped out of the pantry into the kitchen. “I want to see if he left anything behind that might help us find him.”

  “No problem, Jake.” Devlin touched Abby’s elbow. “Let’s get some food, and you can fill us in on how you plan to do just that.”

  Abby had no appetite and ignored the huge slab that Otis called a sandwich.

  “Eat up. All you’ve had today is coffee.” Otis set a bowl of homemade soup beside the sandwich.

  Abby patted his hand. “I don’t seem to have much of an appetite.”

  “At least try and eat the soup.”

  She spooned in a mouthful and savored the rich flavor, but it hit her stomach like a rock. Abby looked at the sheriff, who hadn’t said a word since he’d started eating. Devlin sat across from her and had wolfed down half of his sandwich; his soup was already gone. Leave it to men. Even when there’s trouble, they still have no problem eating. “Sheriff, you said something about a plan.”

  He patted his mouth with his napkin and took a big sip of coffee. “Yeah.” He cut his glance over to Dev. “But it’s risky.”

  Devlin slumped back in his chair. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, you know the Mid-Summer Festival is this weekend.”

  Abby swallowed another spoonful of soup. “What’s that?”

  Devlin looked at her. “I forgot to tell you. It’s to celebrate the founding of the island. The village green is decorated in fairy lights, and the local merchants set up booths. The Wolf Island quartet plays, and there’s dancing and prizes. There’s even a masquerade. Everybody dresses up in costumes and tries to ID each other. Otis makes jambalaya. It’s a lot of fun.” He turned back to Jake. “So, what does the festival have to do with anything?”

  The sheriff swallowed another bite of his sandwich. “I think the masquerade is the key. I wouldn’t put it past him to make a move on that night. You know how noisy it is, everybody running around in disguise.”

  Devlin turned to Abby. “In that case, you’re not going anywhere near the festival.”

  Abby straightened in her chair and laid her napkin down on the table as patiently as she could. “Of course I am. You don’t think I’m just going to stand by quietly and not do anything? Victor meant those threats for both of us. I won’t allow anything to happen to you.”

  His gaze softened and he smiled. “I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself.”

  “Yes, I know you can. And so can I.”

  She turned to the sheriff. “So what’s your plan?”

  “I think you should definitely go to the festival. We still have extra support from the mainland. We’ll have some plainclothes officers and deputies in the mix. I can deputize a few more people here in the village to help on the road leading up to the castle, as well. If you’re willing, Ms. Chapel, I’d like to use you as bait.” He laid a Taser on the table. “Wear a fanny pack and put this inside. All you have to do is point and shoot.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Absolutely not!” Devlin’s words snapped out like bullets.

  The sheriff walked out of the room to finish gathering evidence when they started arguing. Devlin paced from one end of the kitchen to the other while Abby sat at the kitchen table and watched him.

  Otis had stepped outside with the excuse that he needed some fresh air.

  “Dev, there is more happening here than just my safety.”

  He looked at her pretty face, her brown hair falling around her shoulders, and the eager expression in her eyes. At this moment, she was completely safe. He could reach out and touch her any damn time he wanted to. No bruises, no cuts marring her skin, and he intended to keep it that way.

  “What about you?” She gestured with her hands. “And Otis? Not to mention the people who live on this island. Victor Morgan has got to be stopped, and if I can help make that happen, I’m willing to take the risk.”

  “Well, I’m not.” Devlin kept his tone harsh and didn’t try to temper his voice. “You know firsthand what he’s capable of.”

  Abby folded her arms over her chest. “Yes, that’s right, I do. All the more reason for me to do this. Don’t you understand?”

  “No. All I understand is that I’m not putting you in harm’s way.”

  Abby gazed at him and smiled. “Do you know how much I love you?”

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “Cut it out. Telling me you love me isn’t going to change my mind. I know you pretty well by now.” A kaleidoscope of pictures of how they had spent the night making love ran through his head. “Inside and out.”

  A cute little blush brought bright color to her cheeks. “I’m a big girl, Dev. I’ll be okay. Cops will be all over the place, and there will be a mad crush of people on Saturday in costume. I promise I’ll stay on the village green and won’t go anywhere alone.”

  He thought for a moment and tried to visualize her dressed up and milling about with the crowd. He wanted to say someth
ing to the villagers to alert them to Victor’s presence on the island, but the sheriff didn’t think that was a good idea. He didn’t want to instigate widespread panic.

  All of the locals knew the history, and it might make it necessary to cancel the festival. A lot of tourists visited the island on this one weekend. It was kind of like retail sales at Christmas for the big department stores. Wolf Island’s economy made more money this one weekend than they did the entire rest of the year.

  And there would be his Abby in the middle of it, fair game for a cold-blooded killer. His blood ran like ice in his veins just thinking about Victor putting his hands on her.

  Except during war, he had never killed another human being in his life. He despised his father and what he had become, but technically Victor was still his father, and no matter how heinous his crimes, Devlin didn’t want him to die at his son’s hands.

  “That’s just it. You won’t be able to tell who is who. He could easily slip into the crowd and wait. He’s really good at waiting, Abby.”

  He walked to the table and sat down, taking her left hand and holding it in his own. He stared into those gorgeous, sexy eyes of hers and never wanted them to shine with fear. If she met up with Victor, the cold edge of terror might never leave her.

  “I want to tell you something, and I need you to listen. The day my mother went into the village, she was gone for over two hours. Victor huddled in the bushes on the side of the road until she came along. Then he made his move.”

  Abby laid her other hand over his. “That’s a valid point. It proves beyond any doubt that I’m correct in wanting to go ahead with it. I have the Taser to slow him down.”

  “No, Abby. I want you to stay here in the castle.”

  She squeezed his hand. “He can get at me here just as easily as he can during the festival. Dev, he was here last night! If he was in the passageway, he may have even come up to your room. He may have watched us sleeping or making love.”

  The thought of Victor watching him love Abby, of him seeing her sweet body, turned his stomach and angered him deep in his soul. He hoped to God she was wrong and that Victor hadn’t attempted to go that far.