by B. J Daniels
“He’ll arrest you. And maybe me, too.”
Tucker said nothing for a moment. “You sure you don’t want something to eat?”
She shook her head. As Tucker left, she moved to the bed, pulled back the covers and glanced at the sheets. He was right. She was used to nice things. The sheets looked worn and pilled with noticeable bumps, but she didn’t care. Kicking off her shoes, she started to climb in when she realized that her jeans were too damp to sleep in.
Hurriedly, she discarded them, laying them across the chair next to the bed before diving under the cold covers. A fire crackled in the woodstove, but the cabin was still freezing. She closed her eyes, willing herself to fall asleep so she didn’t have to think.
But of course that didn’t happen. She kept seeing the expression on Tucker’s face when he saw Melody. No, she thought, when he saw an image of Madeline in the woman’s innocent face. When he realized the body in the creek had been Misty’s—not Madeline’s—and that Madeline might be alive. He was a man besotted and, as far as she could tell, always would be.
She squeezed her eyes tighter, feeling the heat of her tears. She couldn’t hold them back. Turning her face into the pillow, she cried until the sheets began to warm up and so did she. Her emotions spent, she let exhaustion take her.
* * *
TUCKER CAME INTO the cabin, his arms loaded with enough junk food to last them two days at least. It would probably take that long to get out of here once the storm moved on.
He looked around as he started to put the bags down, thinking Kate must be in the bathroom. But the door was ajar. Then he saw her jeans tossed over the chair beside the bed.
Quietly, he put down the bags he carried and moved toward the bed. She was so slim and the bed sagged so badly that he hadn’t even noticed the slight lump in the middle. He smiled down at her, enjoying this peaceful Kate. She looked like a woman without a care in the world—if you didn’t notice that the skin around her eyes was red and puffy. She’d been crying.
He felt his heart break and wanted to scoop her up in his arms and hold her and tell her that everything was going to be all right. But he had his doubts about that. At least now she was just dead to this world and quickly regretted thinking it.
As he stepped away, he felt sick. The remains in the creek were Misty Dunn’s. Not Madeline’s. He thought about K.O., remembering how the man was with his sister Melody. He agreed with Kate. He couldn’t see K.O. as the killer.
The rain seemed to be letting up a little. Stepping outside under the small roof at the front of the cabin, he pulled out his cell phone and called Flint.
“Where the hell are you?” his brother snapped.
“Hell Creek actually.”
“Funny.”
“Not so much. A storm blew in. We’re trapped here for a while. The road out is impassible until it quits raining and dries up.” He told Flint what they’d learned. “I thought you could check out K.O.’s alibi, but quite frankly, I believe him. He seems to be his sister Melody’s only caregiver. He’s very protective of her.”
Flint was silent for so long Tucker worried that they might have been disconnected. “So that’s the last of the Dunns,” his brother said finally. “You told him about Madeline?”
“He was upset, relieved actually, since he was trying to protect Melody from Madeline when he took her out of Clawson Creek. But unfortunately, Madeline never had a broken leg.” His brother swore. “The remains found in the creek are Misty’s.”
“He’s sure?”
“He said Madeline pushed her down the stairs and Misty broke her leg. He’s sure. I think Madeline is alive. I also think K.O. is afraid of her and will take Melody and hide again. Kate seemed to think he suspected who might have killed Misty, but while he denied it, I think she’s right.”
“Madeline.”
“He’s running from her, but I think there is more to it. I think someone else is involved.”
“Nice work,” Flint said after a moment. “Ever thought about going into law enforcement?”
He hadn’t. “If you’re being facetious—”
“Not at all,” the sheriff said. “You can look into it while you’re locked up again in my jail.” Flint said nothing for a few moments. “So you’ll be back once the roads are passable?”
“I’ll call when we leave here. We’ve hunted over here so I don’t have to tell you how bad this kind of mud gets.”
“No,” the sheriff said. “At least it should keep the two of you out of trouble.”
He thought about the woman he’d left back inside the way-too-small, way-too-intimate motel cabin. “You’d think so.” He disconnected and stood for a moment, breathing in the cold wet air as the storm moved on and the rain began to slow.
Taking a deep breath, he went back inside, then tossed more wood on the fire and stretched out in the old recliner near the woodstove, praying for the oblivion of sleep. Madeline had made his life hell nineteen years ago. She wasn’t finished with him.
Only now, it wasn’t just him. There was Kate.
* * *
KATE KNEW IT was only a dream because she was no longer in the cabin and yet her heart was pounding. A storm was raging outside. Thunder boomed, making her jump, followed almost instantly by a sharp, blinding flash of lightning. She realized that she was in a house but not one she’d ever seen before. She’d been looking for something, searching, when suddenly goose bumps rose on her arms as the air inside the house seemed to change. Her fear accelerated as she realized that she wasn’t alone anymore.
A stair creaked. She looked up the wide stairway to see a dark figure standing there and realized she was now in Madeline’s old house. Her blood froze in her veins as the figure began to descend the stairs.
Run! But her feet wouldn’t move. It was as if she was glued to the spot, watching something malevolently evil coming toward her.
Her heart pounded so loudly she couldn’t hear anything else. She tried to scream, to warn Tucker. Tucker? She’d forgotten he’d been with her. But where was he now?
The figure was clad in all black, including the hoodie that covered most of the face in dark shadow. Kate knew that once she saw the face, she was going to die. On the stairs, a gloved hand reached up and pushed back the hood and she came face-to-face with—
Kate sat up in bed, unaware that she was screaming until Tucker bounded from the recliner next to the woodstove and took her in his arms.
“It’s all right,” he was saying as the scream died off on her lips. He stroked her hair, murmuring words of comfort. “You’re all right. Just a bad dream. I’m here. No one’s going to hurt you.”
* * *
TUCKER HAD SEEN the terrified look in those wide green eyes and was surprised anything could frighten her. Kate clung to him. Her breathing was raspy and fast as she trembled in his arms. All he could think was that it must have been one hell of a nightmare.
“Want to talk about it?” he asked as she began to relax.
She shook her head and disengaged from him to get up and walk to the window. Parting the curtains, she peered out, her back to him. He could see that it was still raining a little. The sky was lightening but the horizon was still black with storm clouds.
Kate looked so enticing silhouetted against the last of the storm. He wondered how long they would be trapped here, how long he could be in this cabin without doing something they might both regret.
When she finally spoke, he could barely hear her over the crackle of the fire in the woodstove. “What was it about her?” she asked, her voice low as the lighting in the room.
Tucker realized he’d been waiting for this question. Kate was convinced he was still in love with Madeline, would always be, and now that Madeline might be alive... How could he convince her that Madeline had been a fantasy for a teenage boy? Kate... Well, Kate was the real thing. The kin
d of woman any red-blooded male would die for.
He got up from the bed and moved to where she was standing, her back to him, until he was nearly touching her. He could smell the scent of her shampoo in her hair that fell like a dark river in the firelight.
His heart pounded being this close to her and yet still not touching her. He breathed in the mesmerizing scent, knowing that if he touched her, if he turned her to face him, if he looked into those bottomless green eyes, he would be lost forever.
* * *
“KATE?”
She closed her eyes, reveling in the way her name sounded on his lips. She could feel him directly behind her. All her nerve endings tingled at even the anticipation of his touch.
“Kate?” Soft as a caress, the sweet sound sent shivers across her bare skin. That ache at her center intensified, but she didn’t turn around. She couldn’t bear to look into those gray eyes and know that he could see how vulnerable she was feeling.
Mostly, she couldn’t bear to see pity in those eyes. She didn’t even want to admit the truth to herself. She’d fallen for a man who was in love with another woman. She’d fallen in love with Tucker Cahill.
Gently, he pushed her long hair aside and pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck. She shivered, a sigh slipping from her lips as he pressed another kiss against her bare flesh before he let her hair drop to her shoulders again.
“You want to know about Madeline?” he whispered so close now that she could feel his body heat.
She nodded, terrified that she might cry again. She didn’t want to know what it was about Madeline that had ensnared him so completely. But at the same time, she had to know.
“Madeline had only one thing going for her,” he said, his voice so soft she had to lean back a little to hear him. “She knew how to drive a teenage boy crazy. A grown man would have seen right through her amateurish seduction.”
Her chest tightened. She ached with longing. This man... She’d never felt such need. Desire ran like a wildfire through her veins, making her legs weak and her heart thunder in her chest.
“She used sex as a weapon,” he whispered against her ear, sending a shiver through her. If he didn’t stop... But she felt as if she might die if he did. “Not knowing any better, I thought it was love. Now, because of you, I know the difference.”
His large warm hands settled on her shoulders before he slowly turned her to face him. She felt her heart leap to her throat. His gaze locked with hers. “Kate.” And then she was in his arms, burying her face in his shirt.
“Oh, Kate.”
* * *
“OH, KATE.” HE repeated the words, a man surrendering. All the fight was gone. As well as all the reasons this was his worst idea yet. All his good intentions. He’d let this woman get to him. As hard as he’d tried to hold her at arm’s length, she’d knocked down the barriers he’d built after Madeline.
He’d promised himself that no woman would get too close again. That he would never trust that much. That he wouldn’t, couldn’t, love with that heart-opening intensity that could leave him devastated once again.
But he hadn’t counted on meeting Kate Rothschild. She charged into things with so much courage and determination that he’d found himself in awe of her grit. Kate, who’d spent nineteen years planning retribution for her brother. Kate, who was as vulnerable as him—and hated it equally as much.
“Oh, Kate,” he said again as he gently lifted her chin to look into those green eyes. Their gazes locked. Her breathing quickened along with his. He could no longer lie to himself. He thought he’d loved Madeline. Now he knew what real love felt like. What he felt for this woman standing before him in nothing but a T-shirt and pale pink underwear.
He’d tried to keep her at arm’s length but couldn’t. He’d wanted this from almost the first time he’d laid eyes on her. The hours they’d spent together had been pure torture. The woman made him crazy and breathless and aching inside for more. He wanted her like he’d never wanted anything before.
Desire spiked through him as he thought of what he wanted to do to her, with her. The scent of her, the feel of her bare skin against his lips, against his tongue, against his own naked flesh.
He dropped his mouth to hers, taking possession of her with a demanding kiss. She answered in kind, both of them clinging to each other as if caught in a gale-force wind. He swept her up and carried her to the bed. He knew once he made love with her he would only want to do it again and again. He wanted her completely, in every possible way, forever.
That alone should have stopped him. This woman could do more than break his heart. And yet, the longing in him was a force of its own. He lowered her to the bed and looked down into those eyes. “You sure about this?” he asked, his voice husky with desire.
Her gaze locked with his, she pulled him down into a kiss. He gave in to it, feeling as if he was on a runaway train. There was no getting off this wild ride, even if he’d wanted to.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
THE WIND BLEW all night. Not that Kate noticed. She’d been wrapped up in Tucker—quite literally. Now, lying on her side, spooned against his warm, hard body, she didn’t want to move. But she’d awakened to the sound of her phone. She’d turned it to Vibrate and left it on the small kitchen table three yards or so from the bed. The phone danced across the worn Formica top and finally came to rest.
It was the eighth time the phone had done that since she’d awakened. Her mother calling? Her father? Peter? Could be any one of them. Whoever it was they were quite insistent and that’s what worried her.
Tucker stirred behind her and pulled her even tighter against him. She lay back, warm smooth flesh to warm smooth flesh, wishing she never had to move from this position. She smiled as she felt the familiar representation of his desire. It stirred a need that she’d thought sated after everything he’d done to her last night. As if she could get enough of him.
Her phone went off again.
Tucker lifted his head to look at the table. “Is that your phone?”
“It is. I’m afraid something has happened. I probably should check it.”
“Hmm,” he said, lowering his head to her shoulder, where he began to leave a trail of warm kisses across her skin.
She moaned, closing her eyes. Never in her wildest dreams had she ever imagined that making love could be like this. The men she’d known had always been polite, tentative and boring as if they had a script to follow.
There had been nothing tentative or scripted about Tucker Cahill. He’d taken her with a wanton abandonment the first time. She’d clung to him, crying out with each release until gasping for breath, her nails digging into his back, and him arching in a howl of pleasure before collapsing with her in his arms.
The next time, he’d explored her body as if he needed to know every square inch of it—and the exact spots that made her crazy with desire. They’d laughed and played most of the night, with her exploring his body as well, until it felt as if they’d always known each other this intimately, before they’d collapsed into an exhausted satiated nightmareless sleep.
“I have to get that,” Kate said as the phone began to vibrate again. She rose from the bed. The cabin had cooled down after the woodstove had gone out. She rushed naked to the table, scooped up the phone and dived back under the covers, making Tucker laugh and pull her into his warm body again.
He held her as she checked her phone, kissing the nape of her neck and following her spine downward. “It’s my mother.” Her heart was in her throat as she listened to the voice mail. “Oh, no.”
“What is it?” he said, sitting up to look at her.
“My father’s back in the hospital. This time it sounds serious,” she said as she turned to look at him.
Without a word, he got up to go to the window. “It looks like the wind has dried things out.” He turned. Since the woodstove had g
one out during the night, the only warm spot was in the bed under the covers where she now lay naked.
She saw desire burn like quicksilver in his gray eyes, then dim as he said, “I should get you home as soon as possible. But if you stay naked like that much longer...”
She nodded, as disappointed as he was that they had to leave here. She got up and padded across the icy cold floor to retrieve her clothing. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Tucker pull on his jeans. She wanted to lay her palm against the warm skin of his back, but she knew what would happen if she did. He was right. She needed to get home. She hurriedly dressed in the freezing-cold cabin, praying her father was all right.
* * *
“SO HOW DOES it work?” Billie Dee asked, trying not to get her hopes up after what Henry had told her. For so long she’d believed she would never see her daughter again.
“You can go online and send in your DNA, letting her know you want to find her,” Henry said.
“But what if she doesn’t want to see me?” she asked, her voice breaking.
“Tex, she wouldn’t have put her DNA into the system unless she wanted to find you.”
She nodded, tears blurring her eyes. “It’s so...scary. I’ve prayed that someday I would find her or she’d find me, but what if she can’t forgive me?”
“Would you tell her who her father is?” Henry asked.
“He’s still a powerful oilman in Houston. His wife died. He’s remarried to a younger woman much like his first wife.”
“You don’t have to tell her,” he said.
She got up and walked around the kitchen, her fear growing. “I don’t know what to do.”
“You don’t have to do anything right now. You can think about it,” he assured her. “It’s entirely up to you.”
She turned to smile at him. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”
“You’ll never have to find out.”
* * *
HARP OPENED HIS EYES, surprised and confused to find himself in a hospital bed. For a moment he thought it was last year when he’d almost died after doing something incredibly stupid and that his whole year of working to prove himself had all been nothing but a hopeful fantasy.