Midnight Bride

by Barbara Mccauley

  And at the same time he fascinated her.

  She watched as he reached down and picked something up. A shoe—the missing shoe. Her missing shoe. “Did you find that here?”

  He nodded. “Feeling a little like Cinderella?” he asked dryly.

  She looked at the wet, muddy shoe and her jeans. “After midnight, definitely.”

  He smiled, something he rarely did, Sarah thought. And a good thing it was, she decided, based on the flutter in her stomach his smile elicited. She took the shoe from him and examined it. “How were you able to find it?”

  “It made sense you would have stayed close to the creek that night, which turns too narrow right here to follow any direction but toward the cabin. This cliff leads straight up to the main road into town.”

  She glanced up at the cliff and tightly clutched her shoe. “Did I…is this where…”

  “Where you fell.” He pointed to a shrub a few feet up. “There’s a piece of your skirt stuck on that branch right there.”

  Her hand moved up to touch the gold necklace at her throat. “It’s so steep…so high,” she whispered.

  He nodded grimly. “The rocks were wet and slippery. You must have slid down, catching yourself on boulders and rocks and mud to break your speed. Plus I see a few broken shrubs. They must have slowed you down, as well.”

  Dear Lord, how did I survive a fall like this? It felt as if her blood had turned to ice as she stared at the piece of fabric caught on the branch. It flapped in the breeze, waving wildly at her, and she pictured herself coming down the cliff, no control, nothing to hang on to, nowhere to go but down.

  This wasn’t like Cinderella at all, she thought, but Alice in Wonderland, and a quote from the story popped into her mind: “Down, down, down…too dark to see anything…after such a fall as this I shall think nothing of tumbling down stairs…”

  The same images came back to her, the ones she’d had in the kitchen. The angry voice, the taste of blood in her mouth, the rain.

  “Sarah.”

  She blinked and looked at Caleb. She hadn’t even realized that he’d taken her arm and set her down on a smooth boulder, then knelt beside her.

  “Are you remembering something?” he asked.

  She shook her head slowly. “Nothing I haven’t told you already.”

  He watched her for a long moment, as if he were weighing a decision very carefully. His hand, still wrapped around her arm, tightened a fraction, and the heat of his fingers seeped all the way through her thick sweater.

  “Sarah,” he said slowly, “I want to try something, but you have to agree to it, and in order to agree, you have to trust me.”

  Something in his eyes, the tone of his voice, sent a chill through her. She’d trusted him up to this point because she’d really had no choice. Now he was giving her a choice. He wanted her to trust him willingly. Completely.

  Could she?

  Her throat constricted as she stared back at him and saw the grim set of his mouth. If he’d wanted to hurt her, he could have several times over. He still could. Though she’d healed considerably, she was still weak, and even in the best of health, how could a small woman possibly defend herself against a six-foot-three man built from solid muscle?

  She couldn’t.

  She was nearly as helpless now as she had been when he’d found her. He hadn’t hurt her then, and he wouldn’t hurt her now.

  She drew in a slow breath, met his somber gaze and nodded.

  He stood, then pulled her up beside him. “Close your eyes and no matter what, don’t open them.”

  She did as he asked. The scent of the mountains closed in around her; pine and damp earth. And Caleb. He moved closer to her and she smelled him-a mixture of warm, masculine skin and the faint odor of a spicy after-shave.

  She heard the rustle of leaves and the snap of a twig as he moved behind her. “I’m going to put my arm around you.”

  Her heart started to pound. He was recreating that night, trying to break through her amnesia and force her to remember. His arm came around her, circling her shoulders, drawing her close against his broad, muscled chest.

  “It’s raining.” His breath fanned over her ear. “You’re cold and frightened.”

  She was frightened, though certainly not because she remembered anything about that night. It was Caleb she was frightened of, or more truthfully, herself, and the reaction she was having to the contact of their bodies: a swirling sensation low in her belly. Her skin felt tight, her breathing shallow. She felt his body tighten, as well, and the lightest brush of his mouth against her ear. She shivered.

  “There’s thunder,” he said hoarsely, “and lightning. The ground is muddy under your shoes, and it’s hard to walk.”

  She tried to focus, to concentrate, but with Caleb pressed so close, and the hot rush of his breath down her neck, it was impossible. Her knees felt weak, and it was all she could do not to turn in his arms and face him, to rise up and press her lips to his.

  Without warning he tightened his hold and yanked her against him. She gasped at the sudden movement.

  “It’s dark,” he said roughly, “you want to get away from me. You know I’m going to kill you.”

  She struggled against him, kicking out with her feet. But he was too strong. She might as well be a fly with its wings snipped.

  Kill her…kill her…dammit, don’t let her get away…

  The darkness rose up to meet her. Rain pounded her face. She twisted frantically and screamed, saw herself being dragged back toward a car, knowing she was dead if they reached it. She bit him, hard, and when he released her, she swung around.

  And kicked him as hard as she could between the legs.

  Four

  Caleb wondered why he was seeing stars when it was the middle of the day. He also wondered why he was sitting on his butt on the cold, damp earth, trying to suck air into lungs that suddenly didn’t work.

  “Caleb!”

  He heard his name, but the explosion of pain in his body made it impossible to answer.

  “Oh, my God, Caleb!” He felt cool hands touch his face. “Are you all right?”

  All right? Was he all right? Of course he wasn’t all right.

  “I’m so sorry,” he heard Sarah say. “I didn’t think, I mean, I just didn’t realize—”

  He drew in a long gulp of air, then blinked several times. Her face came into focus, a few inches away from his own. Her eyes were dark with worry, her brow furrowed.

  He’d never expected her to move that fast, or with such intensity. He realized with immense relief that her hit had not been a direct one or he’d be flat on his back.

  “Caleb, please,” she said frantically, “speak to me, say something.”

  “I’m fine,” he said in a tiny high voice. “Perfectly all right.”

  “Oh, no, Caleb, I’m sorry.” She knelt beside him and cupped his face in her hands. Her fingers were soft and smooth against his cheeks. He could breathe again now, and the pain began to subside.

  “Did I really hurt you?” she asked.

  He hardly wanted to admit she’d hurt his…ego. He doubted she weighed more than one-fifteen; he was closer to two-twenty. Not to mention he had a black belt and had been trained to expect the unexpected.

  The truth was that when he’d held her against him, felt her slender body tucked intimately to his, he hadn’t thought of anything except the curve of her rear end against the lower portion of his body and how sweet her hair and skin smelled after her shower. Desire had shot through him like a rocket out of control. A rocket that had suddenly crashed, he reminded himself.

  “I’m all right,” he said with more annoyance than he intended.

  “Are you sure?” She glanced down, then quickly looked back into his face as she realized where her gaze had gone.

  “Well,” he said with a drawl, “if it’ll make you feel better, we could take a test drive to check things out.”

  It took a beat for his meaning to sink in, then h
er cheeks grew red. “You’re definitely all right,” she said with a frown.

  Her hands slid away from his face, and she started to stand, but he reached for her and pulled her back. “You remembered something.”

  Her skin, flushed with embarrassment only a moment ago, now turned pale. She sank back down beside him, onto a blanket of pine needles and leaves, then drew in a long, slow breath and stared blankly at the hands she’d spread over her knees.

  “It’s like looking into a shattered mirror,” she said after a moment. “Incomplete images and faces. Nothing has definition, just jagged pieces.”

  “Tell me, Sarah,” he said. “Tell me what you see.”

  Her brow furrowed, as if in pain, and she lifted her gaze to his. “He let go of me when I bit him, then I—” she swallowed hard and moisture formed in her eyes “—I turned and kicked my knee up as hard as I could.”

  Caleb watched a tremor shiver through Sarah. He covered her hand with his; her fingers were like ice. “I hope you scored a bull’s-eye with the bastard,” he said tightly.

  Her lips curved upward. “Me, too.”

  Giving—or receiving—comfort had always been foreign to Caleb, but when he saw her begin to shake, he pulled her into his arms with a movement as natural as breathing. She buried her face into his shoulder, and he felt the wetness of her tears through his shirt.

  “I’m frightened,” she whispered hoarsely.

  “No one’s going to hurt you.” He tucked her head under his chin and smoothed her hair away from her face. “I didn’t pull you out of the mud for nothing, you know.”

  He felt her soft laugh against his chest, then a small sob. His chest tightened at the sound of her distress. What was it about this woman that made him want to leap tall buildings and catch bullets with his teeth? He tried to tell himself he’d do the same, feel the same, for any woman in the same situation, but he knew that wasn’t the truth. His job had required he safeguard at least a dozen women in equally threatening situations, and he’d never felt anything like this before. This didn’t feel like a job.

  This felt personal.

  And even now, as he drew her closer to him, he tried to tell himself she wasn’t his problem, that he should take her to the sheriff and let him take care of her. But his gut told him that would be a mistake, that he might just be signing her death warrant.

  She pulled away from him suddenly, her tear-filled eyes wide. “You said it was dangerous for me out here, that someone might be looking for me. That means I might be putting you in danger, too. I can’t stay here anymore.”

  She started to rise, but he caught her arms and gently tugged her back. “Sarah, you don’t have to worry about me, I’m—”

  I’m what? A special agent for the United States Government trained to deal with all types of terrorists and criminals? She not only wouldn’t believe him, she’d think he’d gone crazy himself. No, this was hardly the time to tell her. And for that matter, she didn’t ever need to know.

  “I’m more than capable of taking care of myself,” he said.

  She shook her head and laid her hands on his chest. “But you don’t know, you can’t be sure. I can’t let you take a chance like that.”

  Her words stunned him, and at the same time, touched a part of him that he’d thought long dead. When was the last time someone had cared about him, really cared about him?

  She stared at him, her bright eyes earnest, her lips set in a straight, determined line. He suddenly couldn’t take his gaze off those lips. Her scent filled his senses; a clean, light fragrance that was hers alone, as potent as it was seductive.

  He looked back into her eyes, eyes as pale blue as an early morning sky. He watched them darken as she held his gaze. Her lips parted in wonder. Neither one of them moved.

  The breeze swirled leaves around their legs; the rushing water from the creek echoed through the pine trees; a squirrel chattered from a nearby branch.

  And still neither one of them moved.

  “What’s happening, Caleb?” she whispered.

  Nothing he understood. Or maybe he didn’t want to understand. Whatever it was, it was as strong as it was sharp, a need that overpowered reason or logic. His hands tightened on her arms and she swayed toward him.

  “You don’t even know who I am,” she said raggedly. “I don’t know who I am.”

  “That doesn’t seem to matter,” he said, and lowered his mouth to hers.

  She tasted like cool mint and warm sunlight. Her hands spread over his chest, and her sigh was as soft as the breeze curling around them. Insane. That’s what this was. He had no right to kiss this woman, to hold her in his arms like this and take advantage of her vulnerability.

  He pulled her closer and deepened the kiss.

  His mouth played over hers, hungry to taste more of her. She responded, tentatively touching her tongue to his. There it was again, he thought. That innocence. Enticing as it was intriguing. A sweetness that would send any man, sane or not, over the edge.

  And when she slid her arms around his neck and pressed closer to him, that’s exactly where he was. Over the edge.

  Time or place ceased to exist for Sarah. She heard the distant sound of birds, then her own voice, soft and faraway, whispering a name. Caleb. She was a stranger not only to him, but to herself, her own body. The feelings careening through her were foreign to her, yet familiar somehow, at a primitive, subconscious level. They frightened and excited at the same time. Her breasts, pressed against Caleb’s muscled chest, felt full and tight, and she realized she wanted him to touch her, not only there, but everywhere. The mere thought of his hands on her skin sent shivers of anticipation through her that centered low in her belly and sharpened. Had a man ever touched her like this before? Could she have ever forgotten a pleasure as incredible as this?

  She’d lost her mind as well as her memory, she thought desperately. Why else would she so wantonly respond to Caleb as she was? Nothing could ever come of this. Nothing. She would remember who she was, why she was here, and she’d be gone. Back to wherever it was she came from. Back to her life.

  But she was responding, completely, without re straint, as if being here with Caleb was the most natural, real thing in the world. The only real thing amidst the overwhelming turmoil and confusion.

  His mouth moved anxiously over her lips, insistently, relentlessly. She opened to him, trembling with anticipation, then suddenly she was on her back, the cool, damp ground underneath her and the scent of damp leaves and pine filling her senses. He kissed her deeply, arching his body over hers, and she surged upward to meet him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. Need twisted and knotted inside her, and when his hand slid up under her sweater and he cupped one breast in his palm, the knots tightened with exquisite pain.

  She moaned, squirming beneath him restlessly, wanting more, desperate to have him closer, to remove the barrier of clothing and feel him against her, inside her. She moaned again, though in her haze of pleasure she thought the sound was more of a whimper, a plea for him to hurry. And when his mouth closed over her breast, caressing the soft flesh through her thin cotton bra, there were no thoughts at all, just mindless, pure sensations.

  Wolf barked sharply from somewhere close by, and Caleb froze. Swearing under his breath, he moved away from her, then slowly rose. Sarah stared at him, her body and mind screaming for him to come back to her. With a heavy sigh he pulled her to her feet.

  “I shouldn’t have done that,” he said hoarsely, staring down at her with intense dark eyes.

  Shouldn’t have done that? Had he really said that? Sarah looked quickly away, refusing to give in to the tears of embarrassment burning her eyes. If she’d ever wished the earth would simply open and swallow her up, she couldn’t have wished it more than she did at this moment. How could she have let herself get so carried away like that, rolling on the ground with a man she hardly knew? And if he hadn’t stopped when he had, then Lord only knew what they’d be doing!

  But
she did know. Exactly what she’d wanted him to do. What she still wanted him to do.

  “I’d better get back,” she said, brushing at the leaves on her clothes, hoping he wouldn’t see how her hands were shaking. “I’m feeling a little tired, and I wanted to fix dinner and—”

  “Sarah.” He took hold of her arm. “I’m sorry. That shouldn’t have happened.”

  Shouldn’t have done that was bad enough. Now it was I’m sorry, and it shouldn’t have happened. She drew in a slow breath and pulled her arm away. “I’m sorry, too, Caleb. I’ve caused you nothing but trouble since you took me in. I’ll find a way to repay you, I promise.”

  Certain she was going to make an even bigger fool out of herself, Sarah hurried away before he could answer.

  It was almost dark by the time Caleb returned to the cabin. The smell of wood smoke filled the air and something else, something distinctly familiar and incredibly wonderful. Bread baking, he realized. Wolf followed him into the cabin, sniffed at the air, then made a beeline for the kitchen. No loyalty with that animal when it came to food, Caleb thought with a shake of his head. Not that he blamed him. If he hadn’t made such a fool out of himself this afternoon, he’d be fast on the animal’s heels.

  But he had made a fool out of himself. Sarah was alone, vulnerable. Confused. She’d turned to him for help, not to be seduced. She had a life somewhere, a family. He had no right taking advantage of her or her innocence.

  And she was innocent. He’d sensed her inexperi ence that first day when she’d wakened and he’d touched her, but today he’d felt it—a spark of hidden passion that had suddenly burst into flame. And it was that very innocence that had fueled his own desire. A desire that hadn’t diminished, but had only grown since he’d tasted her.

  He’d made a mistake. One he had no intention of making again. Once he got her fingerprint report back from Mike, he’d send her back home, wherever, and to whomever, that was.