FOR THE CHILDREN Read online

Page 14


  She slept with her head bent at an angle and her mouth half-open. Slowly he reached for the car seat and unfastened it, then slid his hands underneath the sleeping child. She felt light as thistledown when he lifted her into his arms. Clenching his teeth, he started for the house, willing himself not to notice the way she nestled against him.

  When they reached the porch, Abby opened the door and came out, then stopped abruptly when she saw him carrying Maggie. "I'll take her," she whispered, holding out her arms.

  He shook his head. "That might wake her up. Just get her bed ready."

  Maggie stirred when he spoke, opening her eyes to look up at him. A sleepy smile flickered across her face. "Thank you for the movie, Damien," she murmured, then closed her eyes and snuggled closer to him.

  Damien stared down at her, feeling pain rush in to fill the spot where his heart used to be. His arms tightened for a moment, then he looked up blindly and headed for the twins' room.

  "Lay her down here," Abby whispered, and he saw her standing next to the lower bunk. Casey was already curled up next to the wall, and he gently lowered Maggie down next to her. "It would be too hard to lift one of them to the upper bunk, and they sleep together half the time, anyway," she explained as she knelt to tuck Maggie in.

  Damien watched for a moment, unable to turn away as Abby smoothed the hair away from Casey's face then pressed a kiss to Maggie's cheek. When she straightened, he turned and walked out of the room. By the time Abby emerged from the girls' bedroom, he was busy searching the house, checking to see if anything had been disturbed.

  Even though he couldn't see her, he knew Abby stood in the doorway watching him. He felt her presence as surely as if she'd touched him. He stared at the kitchen counter for a moment, his muscles tensed, waiting for her to go to her own room. When she didn't move, he pushed away from the counter and walked onto the porch.

  It didn't help. Her scent drifted to him on the cool night air, and when she followed him to the porch he finally looked up at her.

  "Go to bed, Abby. Get some rest."

  "I'm not tired yet," she answered, her voice mild. "What have you found?"

  "Not much." He turned away again. "I don't think anyone was in the house. Nothing's been disturbed, as far as I can tell."

  "Then maybe no one was at the door earlier."

  "Someone was there." His voice was grim. "My guess is that when they realized no one was here, they didn't bother to come into the house. There was nothing inside they wanted."

  "I thought we would be safe here," she whispered. "I didn't think anything could hurt us here in the mountains."

  "You're not safe anywhere until the people who killed Joey are caught." He turned to face her. "Don't you see that?"

  Slowly she nodded, staring out the window in the direction of the brown cottage. "I'm beginning to understand," she whispered. She turned to look at him, her eyes wide and her face pale.

  The fear in her eyes made him say, "I'm not going to let anything happen to them, Abby. They'll be safe with me."

  Taking a step closer to him, she said, "Why don't you try talking to them, Damien? They trust you. If they'd talk to anyone, it would be you."

  Damien closed his eyes, remembering the scene in the woods. "I'm afraid if I ask too soon they'll get scared and not say a thing. They've only known me for a few days, after all."

  "I know you'll do what's best for them. At first I thought you were only interested in solving your case, but I know better now. You'd never hurt them."

  "Not intentionally, no. But I'm going to use them to solve this case, Abby. Make no mistake about that."

  The fear was gone from her eyes. There was only tenderness there now. "I saw you in the water with them this afternoon, and I saw the way you carried Maggie into the house this evening. Don't try to tell me you don't care anything about them."

  "You're pretending again, Abby," he said harshly. "You were right when you said I didn't want to be around children. I don't. I want nothing to do with them. All I want is to solve this case and move on. The only reason I said I didn't want to talk to them yet is I don't want to spook them. If they get upset and won't talk to me, it'll just take longer to get the answers I need. So don't go getting all starry-eyed about the twins and me. They're cute kids, but my interest in them is strictly professional."

  "What happened, Damien?" She came closer, so that the scent of her golden brown hair filled his senses. "Why is it so painful for you to be around children?"

  He closed his eyes to block her out, to take away his need to tell her. Deliberately he said, "If we're sharing secrets, why don't we start with yours?" He made his voice as harsh and cold as he could. "Why are you so frightened for the girls when they're near water?"

  She stared at him for a while, a mix of pity and fear in her eyes. Finally the fear won, and she turned away. "I'm sorry I intruded," she said in a low voice. "I didn't mean to. I promise I won't say anything more."

  For a moment they had been wrapped in intimacy, cocooned in the stillness of the night and bound together by their concern for two small children. As Abby turned away, Damien felt a stab of pain at the loss of that intimacy.

  That frightened him more than ten thugs with guns. Walking over to the window, he stared out over the lake without seeing anything. He'd screwed this case up royally, and the sooner he could end it, the better.

  "Why don't you try calling your sister again?" he said quietly.

  "I will. Thank you for reminding me." Abby sounded as if she was grateful for the diversion. Hell, so was he. If he didn't finish this case and get away from this woman, he was going to do something he'd regret for a long time.

  Abby looked at Damien for a moment before she turned away to find Janna's telephone number. Standing by the window, looking out into the night, Damien was a lonely, solitary figure. One who was that way by choice, she reminded herself. Nothing had made that more clear than his answer to her request a few minutes ago. He intended for his secrets to remain his.

  Still she couldn't resist the warmth that welled up inside her. She'd been moved almost to tears by the way he'd looked at Maggie as he'd carried her into the house. There had been pain in his eyes, but there had also been tenderness. He'd looked at the sleeping child as if she was the most precious thing in the world to him.

  Picking up the piece of paper with Janna's phone number written on it, she stared at it blindly for a few moments. She didn't want Damien to leave. And if he found out what had happened and caught the murderers, he would do just that. But she couldn't bear to cause him any more pain, either. Slowly she picked up the phone and dialed Janna's phone number.

  After three rings she heard her sister's voice. "Hello?" Janna said cautiously.

  "Hi, Janna, it's Abby."

  Damien stepped closer to hear the conversation.

  "Abby!" The sharp intake of Janna's breath was obvious even over the phone line. "Why are you calling? What's wrong?"

  Abby's hand tightened on the receiver. "Why do you assume something's wrong?"

  "It's … it's so late," her sister answered lamely. "You're normally asleep by now."

  "The girls are fine," Abby said. "How are you?"

  "Busy." Her voice sounded rushed, and there was a quaver beneath it that Abby was afraid to identify. "I might have to stay a little longer. Is that going to be a problem?"

  "The girls miss you, Janna. I wish you could come home." Abby paused and took a deep breath. "I need to ask you about something that happened at work the day you left. The day you took the girls to work with you."

  "They had a great time that day."

  Abby wondered at the forced cheerfulness of Janna's voice, but said carefully, "Did they say anything to you about something they might have seen that day? Something that might have scared or upset them?"

  "Everyone at work loves them." Janna's voice was too bright. "They get a lot of attention whenever I have to bring them to the office."

  "Something's wrong, Janna.
Something's bothering them."

  "Are they all right?" Her voice sharpened.

  "They're fine. But they need you."

  "I miss them, too." Something caught in her sister's voice as she added, "Tell them I love them and I'll be home soon."

  "Janna, I think you need to come home now."

  "I can't do that, Abby. There's a lot going on down here."

  Abby heard something in the background she couldn't identify. "We're not at home, Janna. I thought the girls could use a change of scenery."

  "I trust you," her sister interrupted. "I know you'll take good care of them, Abby." Her voice broke again. "Tell them that I love them, and I'll see them soon."

  Before Abby could answer, Janna hung up the phone. Abby stood staring down at the receiver in her hand, listening to the dial tone. Slowly she closed the phone and looked up to find Damien watching her.

  "Something's wrong."

  "Yes."

  "She sounded so odd," she cried.

  "She was trying to protect you and the twins," he said, taking the phone out of her hand. "Someone was listening to the conversation, and she didn't want you to say anything."

  "She's in trouble, isn't she?" She wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly cold.

  Damien slid his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. His warmth seeped into her shivering muscles, and she pressed into him.

  "It sounds like Janna is holding her own. She was able to talk to you and give you a subtle warning. She's not here, Abby. There are people down in Mexico watching her, trying to ensure her safety. We can't do anything to help her right now, and worrying isn't going to change that. So we have to concentrate on keeping the girls safe."

  She shuddered, and he immediately tightened his hold on her. When she burrowed closer, he began caressing her shoulder, soothing and stroking her almost as if his hand had a mind of its own. Abby's muscles trembled where he touched her, and her heart beat frantically against her chest. She told herself it was because she felt safe and protected in his arms, but she knew safety had very little to do with the way Damien made her feel.

  Hormones had a lot more to do with it. As her body quivered and tightened, she reached out her hand and lightly touched his face. The faint stubble of his beard rasped her fingertips, and his skin suddenly burned under her hand. He stilled, watching her intently. All she could read in his eyes was a yearning hunger that he tried desperately to hide.

  "Damien," she whispered. She wanted to tell him that she needed his strength tonight, needed to feel his arms around her, banishing the fear, but as she watched his face her breath caught in her throat.

  She had never seen that kind of desire in a man's eyes before. Not for her, Abby Markham. Her life was plain and ordinary, and she'd expected any passion that came her way to be plain and ordinary, too.

  What she saw in Damien's eyes burned into her soul, igniting her with its heat. She held her breath, unwilling to break the spell as her eyes locked with his. Slowly, his eyes fixed on hers, he drew her into his arms.

  "Just one kiss, Abby," he murmured, his lips hovering over hers.

  "One kiss," she agreed, her eyes fluttering closed.

  * * *

  Chapter 10

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  His mouth brushed over hers with exquisite tenderness, lingering for a moment as if he couldn't bear to let her go. Abby could feel his arms trembling as he held her away from him and raised his head.

  A hollow, empty place inside her cried out in protest, and she opened her eyes. "That wasn't enough," she whispered, and his hands tightened on her shoulders as he groaned.

  "Don't say that, Abby. Tell me to let you go." Wordlessly she shook her head. "I can't," she breathed, speaking so softly that she wasn't sure if he heard her. But he had. "Then God help us both," he muttered as he pulled her against him. His mouth crushed hers, taking her with a searing possession that had desire roaring to life inside her. Reaching around him, she clung to his back, feeling his sleek muscles tense and tighten under her fingers. The world spun around her as he slanted his mouth over hers, and she curled her hands into his shirt and held on.

  Bringing his hands up to cup her face, he broke off the kiss and leaned back, looking into her eyes. "I have no right, Abby. None at all."

  "You have whatever right I give you." Her voice was fierce, and the words surrounded them with heat. Laying her hand against his chest, she felt his heart pounding hard and fast against it. "Hold me, Damien."

  This time his kiss was infinitely gentle. Her lips still ached from his first kiss, and he soothed them with his tongue, nibbling and caressing her until her mouth opened for him. She heard him groan as he tasted the dark velvet of her mouth, stroking her until she throbbed deep inside her belly.

  His hands shifted and eased on her back as he feathered his way down her spine, his fingers lingering as if they memorized every sweep of muscle and bone. When he reached her waist, he hesitated, then slowly bunched her blouse into his hand. She shivered as the cool night air breathed over her skin, then he rested his warm hand on her stomach and she was flooded with heat.

  Her muscles jumped every time he moved his fingers. As he slid his hand along her ribs, she wrapped her arms more tightly around him to hide their trembling.

  When he cupped her breast in his palm, she gasped as pleasure shot through her. Slowly he touched her nipples with the pads of his thumbs, and she went rigid as sensation threatened to overwhelm her. He hesitated, and she held her breath until he slipped his hand underneath her bra and touched her again.

  Need throbbed deep inside her with an almost unbearable strength. She had to touch him, to feel his skin against her hands. Letting go of his shirt, she tried to force the buttons through the tiny holes on the front, but her hands shook too hard. With a muttered oath Damien let her go and roughly pulled his shirt over his head. His smooth skin gleamed in the dim light, his sleek muscles rippling as he reached for her again.

  Abby laid her hands against the dark hair that furred his chest, the coarse strands tickling her palms. As she moved her hands, his skin quivered in response. Astonished, she touched him again and felt his muscles bunch and tense.

  His flat male nipples were hard and beaded, dusky against his smooth skin. She reached out and touched one with a tentative finger, watching as it tightened even more. When she touched him again, he pulled her closer and covered her mouth with his.

  This tune she tasted not only his need, but the passion that drove it. Easing onto the couch behind them, he pulled her down on top of him and wrapped his arms around her as if he couldn't bear to let her go. His arousal burned into her, even through the clothing they both wore.

  As he tasted her neck, biting gently then smoothing with his tongue, his hands slowly unbuttoned her blouse. When the last button fell open, she felt the cool night air flutter against her overheated skin. In one smooth motion he swept the blouse from her shoulders, and she lay on top of him with nothing covering her except her sheer, lacy bra.

  For a moment, as he stared at her, panic swept over her. Kisses were one thing, but now she was on the brink of something else entirely. Control was slipping out of her hands, and she had an almost unstoppable urge to cover herself.

  Then Damien reached out and unfastened her bra. As it fell open, she felt his response to her, and when he looked up at her the wonder in his eyes made her heart lurch in her chest.

  "You're so beautiful." His voice was awed, and she felt herself begin to tremble.

  He pulled the scrap of lace from her arms and dropped it on the floor, then bent his head to take a nipple in his mouth. If she had been on fire before, now she was engulfed by the flames. Moaning his name, she arched her back, trying to get closer to him. He responded by wedging one of his thighs between hers and wrapping his arms around her.

  Sensation exploded inside her as she struggled to get closer. His hands cupped her bottom, then slid around to tug at the waistband of her shorts. Suddenly she was swept with urgency
. Rolling to her side, she fumbled with the button on the fly of his jeans. Time and again her hands brushed the hard ridge of male flesh that burned her even through the thick denim, until her shaking hands managed to free the button.

  He strained toward her touch as she eased the zipper down, until he suddenly tensed and grabbed her hands. "Wait," he whispered. "I'm not going to make love on this couch." He swept her up into his arms. "You deserve more than that."

  Twining her arms around his neck, she let him carry her into his bedroom. Moonlight dappled the quilt on the bed and made his broad chest glimmer in the dim, pearly light. The dark hairs that arrowed into a thin line seemed to disappear into the darkness, hidden by his jeans. She stared at him for a moment, drinking in the sight of his hard muscles and smooth skin, until she realized that he was looking at her, too.

  He reached for her then, holding her at arm's length. "Are the twins going to be all right?"

  "They both sleep soundly, if that's what you're asking. We won't disturb them." She realized that she'd already made the decision to make love with him, that she'd wanted to ever since he'd kissed her that first time.

  "Are you sure?"

  "I'm positive. Do you think I would do anything that I thought would harm them?"

  His eyes softened and he pulled her closer. "I think you would give your life for them. So if you say they won't wake up, I believe you."

  Slowly he bent to kiss her, and the inferno roared to life inside her again. She wanted him like she'd never wanted another man in her life. She fumbled with his jeans, then his hands joined her, his urgency making her tremble even more.

  Before his jeans were completely off, he was tearing at the zipper on her shorts. Kicking away the remains of their clothes, they fell onto the bed, straining to get closer. The quilt twisted around them, wrapping around their arms and legs, until Damien shoved it off the bed with a muttered oath.

  His hands were everywhere, stroking, caressing, claiming her as his. She pressed her palms into his back, glorying in his shuddering response. When she swept her hand down to cup his buttocks, he groaned and pulled her under him.