Faceless

by Alexandra Ivy

  “I like the sound of that,” he murmured, rounding the Jeep to crawl into the passenger seat.

  Starting the engine, Wynter pulled out of the lot, her profile tense. “I can’t bear to think that you might have . . .”

  “I’m here.” He reached over to lay his hand on her thigh, savoring the warmth he could feel through her jeans. He hadn’t even realized how cold he was until that moment. The combination of a near-death experience and the chilled air in the emergency room obviously wasn’t a good one. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

  They were silent on the drive to his cabin, both lost in their thoughts. Noah didn’t mind. He needed a few minutes to calm his shattered nerves.

  After nearly having his head blown off by a shotgun, he’d had enough sense to dial 911. He’d wanted the cops tracking down Drake Shelton before he could escape. But then Chelle had arrived and she’d insisted he go to the emergency room before she would allow him to join Wynter. She’d claimed that the blood dripping from his face would terrify anyone who caught sight of him.

  Now he needed some time to decompress.

  As if reading his mind, Wynter parked the Jeep in the garage and then, shooing away the pack of hounds, led him into the cabin.

  “I’ll run you a hot bath,” she said.

  Noah heaved a sigh, his bruised muscles screaming for relief. “Yeah. A hot bath would be awesome.”

  Together they moved down the narrow hall and through his bedroom into his private bathroom. Wynter made a sound of startled appreciation as her gaze moved around the large space that was designed for a spa, not a simple cabin in the woods. The walls were painted a warm apricot shade with a window that overlooked the lake in the back. There was a double-sink vanity and a walk-in shower. And in the very center of the room a soaking tub had been built into the marble-tiled floor.

  It was large enough for four people and deep enough that the water would come up to his chin when he was stretched out. For a man who often walked up to ten miles a day, plus helping dig out vehicles stuck in the snow or chasing after poachers, he needed a way to relax. This was perfect.

  With a mysterious smile playing around her lips, Wynter bent down to switch on the faucet, allowing the water to fill the bath. Then, straightening, she turned to face him.

  “Do you need help undressing?”

  Noah hesitated. He wanted her help. Desperately. But he always wanted to wash away the day before he touched her. Not just the blood that had trickled beneath his shirt, or the dirt from his morning spent unloading bags of fertilizer. But the sense of evil that clung to him from the shocking attack.

  “I think I can manage,” he murmured.

  “I’ll make us some lunch.”

  Wynter left the room, and with low groans Noah managed to squirm out of his clothes. Tossing them toward the hamper in the corner, he used the shallow steps to enter the bath. Another groan was wrenched from his throat, this one of relief, as he sank into the hot water that swirled over his tense body.

  Allowing the bath to fill to the edge, Noah stretched out and leaned his head against the towel that was placed against the rim. His lashes drifted downward as he floated in the steaming water. Ah . . . heaven.

  He didn’t know how much time had passed when he heard the sound of Wynter returning. Not more than ten minutes or so, since the water was still warm. Opening his eyes, a choked sound of shock fell from his parted lips as he caught sight of his guest.

  Her sweatshirt and jeans were gone, and in their place she was wearing a flimsy robe that did more to emphasize her slender curves than hide them. Her hair was pulled into a tight braid, although a few tendrils had escaped to dance around her flushed face.

  “I thought you were making lunch?” he murmured. A stupid thing to say. But her unexpected appearance had shut down his brain.

  “I did.” With a smile, she untied the belt around her waist and allowed the robe to drop to the floor.

  Noah hissed, his heart forgetting how to beat as he allowed his gaze to slide down her naked body. Christ, she was perfect. She was slender, but not skinny. There were clearly defined muscles from her hours spent in the greenhouses, and a supple grace from her years of yoga. Her breasts were small and soft and deliciously tempting. His mouth watered for a taste.

  “How did you know exactly what I was hungry for?” he growled.

  She moved to the edge of the bath. “A lucky guess.”

  Desire blasted through him. “I’m the lucky one.”

  She gazed down at him, lingering on the stinging scrapes on his face. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m more okay than I’ve been in a long time,” he said with a simple honesty.

  “Good.” She knelt beside the bath.

  He motioned to the empty space next to him. “There’s plenty of room.”

  “First I want to kiss you and make it all better.” She leaned forward, brushing her lips over the bandaged cut above his eye.

  “Mmm.” Noah settled his neck on the rim of the bathtub, savoring the sensation of her soft caresses. Her touch was as light as a butterfly, but he hardened with painful anticipation.

  “Better?” Her lips moved to the scrape on his cheek.

  With an effort, Noah battled back the urge to yank her into the tub. She’d started this seduction so she got to set the pace. Even if it killed him.

  Her fingers stroked through the damp strands of his hair as she nibbled a path of kisses toward the corner of his mouth and then down the line of his jaw. A blistering passion tightened his muscles until he was clenching his teeth. Slow was fine and dandy, but this was excruciating.

  “I want to do some kissing,” he complained.

  Lifting her head, she offered a smile filled with feminine mystery. Then, reaching down, she pulled a condom from the pocket of her robe. He didn’t know where she’d gotten it, and right now he didn’t care.

  At last she swung her legs over the edge of the tub and stretched out beside him. Warm water lapped over them as their naked flesh rubbed together, creating a delicious friction. Noah growled deep in his throat.

  “Why didn’t we do this sooner?” she murmured, nuzzling his shoulder.

  He turned, wrapping her tightly in his arms. “I have a theory.”

  She tilted back her head to meet his gaze. “Another one?”

  “This is a good one,” he promised, his fingers sweeping down her back.

  “Tell me.”

  “I think we both knew a long time ago that we were destined to be together.”

  Her eyes darkened as she draped her leg over his hip, pressing against his hard erection. “Fascinating.”

  Heat flared through Noah with a ruthless intensity. Like he was trying to contain a wildfire that was prepared to rage out of control. “It gets more fascinating,” he murmured.

  She deliberately rubbed against his cock, sending shock waves of desire through him. Noah sighed in pleasure.

  “Yes, it does,” she agreed in a throaty voice. “Much, much more fascinating.”

  He struggled to think. Something that was far more difficult than it should have been. “Where was I?”

  She chuckled, clearly pleased she’d managed to scramble his brains. “You were telling me how we always knew we were destined to be together.”

  “Right.”

  “If we knew, then why weren’t we together?”

  “Because we needed to grow up.”

  “You’ve certainly grown.” Lying face-to-face, with her leg draped over his hip, she rubbed her ankle up and down the back of his thigh, allowing the tip of his cock to slide just inside her body. “In all the right places.”

  He made a choked sound, his fingers tracing up the smooth curve of her waist until he could cup the soft mounds of her breasts. “So have you.”

  Her fingers tightened their grip on his hair, the small prick of pain oddly erotic.

  “That’s your theory?” she demanded, her face flushed and her hazel eyes glowing with fleck
s of gold. “We needed to grow up?”

  “Yes. We had to sow our wild oats.” Lowering his head, Noah wrapped his lips over the tip of her nipple. He heard her groan in pleasure, her fingers moving to dig into his shoulders.

  “I don’t think that I had any oats to sow, wild or otherwise,” she protested, her voice harsh with need.

  “We had to make our mistakes.” He moved to taste her other nipple, using the tip of his tongue until she was arched tightly against him in an unspoken plea.

  “I’ve made plenty of those.”

  Noah nibbled his way up the length of her neck, hiding his smile of agreement. Wynter hadn’t dated a lot—she was too busy creating her business—but the guys she’d chosen had never been husband potential. Which was no doubt the only reason he’d never been threatened by them. “And discover what we didn’t want.”

  “And what we wanted?”

  Noah lifted his head, forcing himself to focus his words. As much as he wanted to tumble into the bliss of mindless desire, this was important. He wanted Wynter to understand that this was more than physical. What he needed from her was far more than just a warm body.

  “Yeah, we had to discover what we wanted.” He gazed down at her, allowing her to see his love etched on his face. “Each other.”

  Her expression softened, the shadows banished from her eyes as they gazed at one another. Then, with an unexpected shove, Wynter had him rolled onto his back so she could perch on top of him.

  The water splashed over the sides of the bath, but Noah barely noticed. Lost in each other, Wynter reached for the condom. Noah’s heart slammed against his ribs as she tore open the package and with a slow, sensuous caress slid it onto his straining cock. He tried to speak, but all that came out was a choked sound of bliss.

  He was desperate to be inside her, but there was no way in hell he was going to complain about the feel of her fingers stroking his erection. Up and down, up and down. Quicker and quicker.

  “Wynter,” he rasped. “Please.”

  A smug smile curved her lips. “Does that mean you’re ready?”

  “Explosively ready.”

  “Sounds dangerous.”

  Holding his gaze, Wynter widened her legs to slowly sink onto his cock. Noah clenched his teeth as she took him in, inch by inch until she was fully impaled. The sensation sent frissons of ecstasy sizzling through him, wrenching a gasp from his lips.

  They held perfectly still for a long moment, both adjusting to the titanic shift in their relationship. Hell, the titanic shift in their very existence. Glancing up, he caught sight of the vulnerability etched on her beautiful face. It was a vulnerability that echoed inside him.

  Sex was one thing. He’d enjoyed his past lovers. But making love was something completely different. It was raw and scary and all-consuming.

  Noah took a second to simply savor the sight of Wynter posed above him. The damp halo of blond curls that framed her flushed face, the bright sparkle of her eyes, the plush lips and the rosy-tipped breasts.

  A huge emotion rushed through him.

  Destiny ...

  It was a word that had haunted him for the past few days. Now it seared through his soul.

  Wynter was his destiny.

  The woman who was meant to stand at his side. To share his bed. And to fill the hole in his heart that had been empty since the death of his parents.

  Noah wrapped his arms around her body, urging her downward. He wanted to taste her lips as he began to pump into her sweet warmth. With a moan, she found his mouth in a hungry kiss, meeting him thrust for thrust.

  The steam cloaked them in a scented mist as their slick bodies moved in rhythm, their groans mingling as they reached for destiny together.

  Chapter 19

  Drake Shelton clawed his way out of his stupor. It was something he had a lot of practice at. More than one weekend had ended with him passed out in the corner of a bar. Most of the locals in Pike allowed him to sleep it off. A few even drove him to his house. Which was why he’d known from the beginning that this was no drunken bender.

  How long had he been out? It felt like an eternity.

  He had a vague memory of waking long enough to sense he was lying on a hard floor. Like the cement slab in a basement. He’d been bound and gagged, but his mind was too fuzzy to comprehend what was happening. Before he could clear his thoughts, he felt a pinprick of pain and the darkness rushed back.

  This time, however, there was no pinprick, no drugs pumping through his veins to knock him out.

  Cautiously Drake shuffled through his fragmented memories.

  There was no way to determine how much time he’d lost, but he could recall being at work when he’d received a text from Wynter Moore. She’d said she had a change of heart and if he wanted the letters he’d written to her mom, he could have them. All he had to do was meet her at her restaurant in Larkin that night at 10:30 P.M.

  Drake had read the text a dozen times. It’d felt like a trick, although he couldn’t imagine who else would know about the letters. Well, his wife. But she was too stupid to do more than cry and pout about his obsession with Laurel Moore.

  Still, he’d taken the precaution of calling the number from the text. It would be foolish not to check. A few seconds later he’d connected with Wynter’s voice mail. It was her. He’d left a message that he would meet her that night.

  He’d wanted those letters. Desperately. They were his only tangible connection to the woman he loved. It didn’t matter that Laurel had been fickle and selfish and occasionally cruel. She had stolen his heart when they were just kids and she never returned it.

  Sappy, but true.

  And if he was being completely honest, he wanted to see Wynter again. Not in a weird, creepy way. But with the knowledge that she could have been his daughter.

  Yes, that was what had happened, he groggily acknowledged.

  Once he was off work, he’d showered and changed and then hopped in his truck to make the drive to Larkin. He’d just pulled into the lot next to the restaurant where they were supposed to meet when he’d gotten another text. This one had a new address.

  Drake remembered an uneasy feeling. Especially when the GPS had led him through the back roads to an isolated farm.

  It was only his fierce need to get his hands on the letters that had kept him from turning around and driving home. That, and the knowledge that his damned wife would be waiting for him to return. Staring at him with those accusing eyes.

  Parking next to the dark house, Drake had cautiously stepped out of his truck. The sooner he had the letters, the sooner he could find the nearest bar. He was just imagining the taste of a cold brew sliding down his throat, when pain exploded through the back of his skull.

  That was when the hazy fog had consumed him and the hours had melted into one long blur.

  Now he lifted his heavy lids. It was still dark. But this was the darkness of night, not an enclosed basement. And he was no longer lying on a cement floor. He was in a vehicle.

  His vehicle, he realized with a stab of surprise.

  With an effort he forced his heavy hands to grab the steering wheel. What the hell was going on?

  Turning his aching head, he glanced out the side window. It was the same house. The one where he was supposed to meet Wynter.

  How had he gotten back here? Or had he never left?

  Was it possible he’d hit his head and this had all been some hideous nightmare? A lame explanation, but what else could have happened?

  Grunting at the effort to move his stiff muscles, Drake leaned forward and reached out to touch the ignition. Yes! The keys were still there. He fumbled to start the engine.

  Intent on his goal of getting the hell out of there, Drake didn’t see the shadow approaching the truck, not until the passenger door was jerked open and someone was crawling in. His sluggish brain was still trying to process the realization that he was no longer alone when a metal cylinder was pressed against his temple.

  A
blessing probably.

  He didn’t have time to feel terror before there was the loud click of a trigger followed by a shattering pain that ripped through his brain. He was dead before his head hit the steering wheel.

  * * *

  The Stranger inspected the truck and then the dead body, ensuring that no clues had been left behind. At least no clues but the ones the cops were intended to find. There was a quick efficiency in the Stranger’s movements. Later there would be time to savor the chaos of the crime scene. The sirens, the screams, the gawkers with their shocked expression that didn’t disguise their lewd excitement at the splattered blood, the brains, the death ...

  Widening the search to the area surrounding the truck, the Stranger felt a smug satisfaction. Anyone could kill. It took a true artist not to get caught.

  Twenty-five years ago the Stranger had been lucky. Now there was no luck involved. Just a pure skill that was being honed with each death.

  The Stranger briefly faltered at the memory of the early snafu. For the second time the shot had missed the mark. Unacceptable.

  But tomorrow was another day. Or to use another cliché, the third time was the charm.

  * * *

  Wynter slowly opened her eyes, glancing around the room.

  She wasn’t surprised to discover she was in Noah’s bedroom. Or that their naked bodies were pressed close together beneath the light quilt. After they’d finally emerged from the bath, they’d gone to the kitchen for a late lunch. From there they’d returned to the bedroom, both eager to continue exploring the passion that had been ignited between them.

  No, there was no surprise to wake in Noah’s arms, but it was a surprise that she could see a glow of light around the curtains that covered the windows. Dawn was creeping over the horizon.

  Which meant she’d slept the entire night.

  She never did that.

  Never, ever.

  She woke at 11:11 P.M. since the night of her mom’s murder. She’d just assumed that it was now etched into her very DNA.

  The feel of warm lips pressing against her furrowed brow lured her out of her dark thoughts and, tilting back her head, she met Noah’s searching gaze.