FOR THE CHILDREN Page 6

"This is it." Damien wished his voice didn't sound so grim.

  "Can we get out of the truck, Aunt Abby?" Maggie said.

  "Sure, Maggie. Go ahead. Just stay where I can see you."

  "Stop them," Damien ordered sharply as the two girls scampered away.

  "They need to stretch their legs."

  "They can stretch all they want in a minute. I need to check things out first."

  "Maggie, Casey." Abby stepped out of the truck and called to them, but they merely turned around and waved at her.

  Damien tensed for a moment, then slammed his door and began running after the girls. They were almost out of the trees, where they would be visible to anyone nearby. He caught up with them just as they reached the edge of the woods.

  "Girls, wait," he barked.

  They skidded to a halt and turned around. For a moment they looked at him with the same expression he'd seen on their faces that morning, after Johnson had frightened them. Damien felt something twist painfully inside him. He didn't want to be around these children, but he didn't want to scare them, either.

  "Wait a minute, girls," he said more softly. "Your aunt Abby needs you to help her carry things into the house before you play."

  "She said we could leave," Casey said. She seemed to be the more confident one.

  Maggie nodded vigorously. "Mommy and Aunt Abby always say that if they can see us, it's okay." She clutched a tattered gray heap of fuzz to her chest and watched him with huge hazel eyes. They were the same color as her aunt's, he realized suddenly. For some reason the thought made his chest tighten.

  He forced himself to squat down so he was at face level with them. "How about helping me take a look around the house, then? It's been a long time since I was here. I might get lost if I don't have some help."

  Casey giggled. "You're silly. You can't get lost in a house."

  As he looked from one of the twins to the other, his soul bled a little more. His own son had laughed in just the same way at his father's jokes. Closing his eyes to block out the memory in front of him, he stood up and looked back toward the house. "You'd better come with me to make sure." His voice was more gruff than he'd intended, but neither of the girls seemed to notice. He turned away abruptly and headed for the house.

  "Do we all get our own rooms?" Casey asked as she skipped along next to him.

  Damien glanced down at her, then quickly away. The child's vibrant enthusiasm swirled around him, taunting him with the memory of another child's zest for life. Her bright eyes and engaging grin made his heart contract painfully. "I don't know. We'll let your aunt Abby decide where everyone will sleep."

  It was the wrong thing to say. The child's innocent question and his own careless answer conjured up sudden, disturbing images that sent a shaft of white-hot heat through him.

  "Maybe you and Aunt Abby will have to share a room, like me and Maggie," the child confided. Damien closed his eyes, trying to block the tantalizing vision of Abby's bed from his mind as the girl chattered on. "Maggie and I always sleep in the same room. At home we have bunk beds."

  Forcing the image of Abby out of his mind, Damien glanced down at the girl next to him. The sooner he got these kids to confide in him, the sooner he could get out of this unbearable situation. And before he could inspire their trust, he'd better try to be a little friendlier.

  "Well, Casey," he forced himself to ask, "why don't we check out the room situation and figure out where everyone will sleep? And we'll need you to help, Maggie," he said with a glance at the quiet girl walking next to her sister.

  "Sure." Casey's voice and smile were as bright as the sunlight reflecting off the lake. When she flashed her grin at him, it felt like he'd taken a blow to the stomach.

  "Aunt Abby looks scared," Maggie said as they walked toward the house. Abby did look frightened, standing and watching as they walked toward her. He tried to reassure the child. "She's probably scared she's going to be stuck carrying all those suitcases into the house by herself," he said lightly, not daring to look at Maggie's solemn eyes. "What do you say we give her a hand?"

  The two girls rushed toward their aunt, and Damien saw her struggle to hide her fear under a wide smile. As he grabbed suitcases out of the back of the truck, he met her questioning eyes over the two blond heads.

  Giving an almost imperceptible shake of his head, he motioned them to wait while he walked up the stairs and onto the small porch of the house.

  "Girls, let's get the suitcases organized while Damien opens the house," she said.

  He turned around to find her watching as he unlocked the door to the cabin. Giving her a small nod, he walked into the cabin.

  A few moments later he emerged onto the porch. "Who wants to see the house?" he called.

  "I do! I do!" The twins raced up the stairs and through the open door, followed by their aunt.

  "Is everything all right?" Abby asked in a low voice as she stopped on the porch.

  "Everything is fine. Shea was here this morning. She left food and cleaned the place. There's no evidence that anyone else has been here, but I wasn't expecting any. I just didn't want to take any chances. And I didn't want the girls running down to the lake before I'd had a chance to look things over."

  Abby watched as the girls scampered through the house, giggling and laughing, then turned to him. "Thank you for doing it without scaring them."

  Her eyes glowed at him, their green depths shining. His hand tightened on the doorknob, and he yanked on the flimsy screen door, hurrying into the muted light inside the cabin. "There's no reason to scare them. They'll be more willing to talk to me if they're comfortable around me."

  The glow in Abby's eyes dimmed as she followed him inside. "They're nothing but business for you, aren't they, Mr. Kane?"

  "That's the way it has to be." His voice was harsher than he meant it to be. "I'm here to get answers from them and protect all three of you. Don't try to make me into their best friend."

  "I wouldn't dream of it." Her voice was cool as she turned to her nieces. "Girls, let's get everything put away before we play."

  Damien watched the three of them as they walked to the pile of luggage and bags he had brought in. Abby looked at the small cabin and checked out the two identical bedrooms. Both had a set of bunk beds and another single bed. "Do you care which bedroom we take?" she asked, her voice polite but distant.

  "It doesn't matter."

  She sent the girls into the bedroom on the right, and they began to put away their clothes. Abby went into the kitchen and unpacked the groceries she'd brought with her. The three of them looked like a family, performing familiar and comfortable routines.

  Damien was the outsider in the family picture, and suddenly he felt more alone than he had in the past three years. Turning abruptly, he walked out of the cabin. After making sure everything was out of the truck, he turned and headed toward the small lake.

  The water glittered a deep blue and reflected the red cliffs that soared above it. They were high enough in the mountains to escape the oppressive heat of the desert, but it was the middle of the summer and it was still warm. Shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans, he stared out over the calm surface of the lake and wondered what the hell they were doing here.

  He knew this was the safest place for them to stay. He knew there was little chance of anyone finding them here. But what if he was wrong? What if someone did find them? What choice would they have?

  They'd have to go into the town of Cameron. His hands tightened into fists in his pockets. They'd have to go to his house, a house that held nothing but pain and bitter memories. He'd have no choice, because if someone found the cabin, it was the only place left.

  He heard Abby's soft footsteps behind him, but he didn't turn around. She stopped next to him, and out of the corner of his eye he saw how she examined the view in front of her.

  "It feels like we're so isolated," she said in a low voice.

  "That's the idea. We're probably three or four miles from the
ranch house. No one comes up here but the McAllisters and the people who work for them."

  "I guess we don't want people around."

  "No one but us," he murmured, watching her in spite of himself. The wind lifted strands of her golden brown hair off her shoulders, blowing them around her face. In the sunlight it sparkled like filaments of blown glass. Her fingers combed through it, slipping through the heavy mass as she shoved it away from her face. He curled his own fingers into fists to stop himself from reaching out to touch it.

  She took a deep breath and turned to him, her brown-green eyes steady. "I want to apologize for what I said inside."

  "There's nothing to apologize for."

  "I think there is. I tried to make you feel guilty for not being as concerned about Maggie and Casey as I am, and that wasn't fair to you."

  "There's a lot that isn't fair in life, Abby. I learned that a long time ago. You can't change the way you feel." He told himself to look away, but he couldn't do it. Standing on the beach, her hair lifting in the breeze, the sun kissing her bare shoulders and legs, she was everything he couldn't have, and everything he wanted.

  Suddenly he wanted her more than he'd ever wanted anything in his life. It didn't matter that she was everything that was wrong for him. It made no difference that wanting a woman like Abby would do nothing but dredge up remembered pain. All of it faded into insignificance as he watched her glow in the sunlight. He saw nothing but the softness in her eyes and the goodness of her heart, and the strength that lay underneath both.

  "Abby," he murmured, reaching for her almost against his will.

  His hands closed around her shoulders. Her skin was cool satin against his hot fingers, smooth and incredibly soft. As he drew her closer, he felt her instinctive resistance. Ignoring it, he lowered his mouth to hers.

  She flinched in surprise, and then she began to tremble. Her mouth softened under his, answering the rough pressure of his kiss with tiny, subtle movements of her lips as her mouth adjusted to his. Heat surged through him, pooling deep in his groin, and he pulled her closer. He needed to feel her body pressed against his, hip to hip, chest to chest, leg to leg.

  He let go of her shoulders slowly, allowing his fingers to linger on her soft skin before sliding his hands down her back. His palms slipped over the delicate indentations of her spine, traced the gentle flare of her hips, then finally cupped her buttocks and fitted her more perfectly against him.

  Her mouth clung to his, and when he touched her lips with his tongue she opened to him readily. He swept into the dark, seductive velvet of her mouth, greedy for the taste of her. Holding her tightly, he rocked against her, testing his hardness against her giving softness. Need consumed him, sweeping away all other thought.

  Suddenly her hands were against his chest, pushing him away. He opened his eyes slowly, drugged by the taste and feel of Abby, and looked down at her. Desire raged with fear in her eyes, and he slid his hands back up to her shoulders and held her as he stepped away.

  Closing his eyes, he took a deep, ragged breath and fought for control, unable to break the contact with her. When he felt her muscles tensing under his hands, he forced himself to look at her. Seeing her effort to both crush the desire and hide the fear, he tightened his hands on her shoulders for a moment, then let her go.

  "I'm sorry. That was unforgivable." His hands shook, and he shoved them into his pockets before he turned away. "I promise you it won't happen again."

  "I … that would be best." Her voice was so low he could barely hear her. "Nothing could be more important to me than Maggie and Casey's safety."

  Her softness, her sweet responsiveness in the moments before she'd stopped to think, had touched a place deep inside him that he'd sworn was forever dead. For just a moment he'd allowed himself to feel something. He needed to crush that tiny blossom of hope back into oblivion.

  "And nothing is more important to me than this case. Nothing." His voice was flat and expressionless, and he turned away. "You and your nieces are a means to an end for me, and that's all. I apologize again for stepping over the line."

  "Apology accepted."

  She didn't say anything more, but she didn't move. Her presence throbbed in the air behind him, growing and swelling until he could swear he heard her heartbeat on the wind. Finally he turned around to look at her. He couldn't help it.

  She stood staring out over the lake, her arms wrapped around herself as if to ward off a chill. When she finally turned to face him, she smiled but it didn't reach as far as her eyes. They stared at him with the blank, unfocused look of someone in shock.

  "The girls are going to have the cabin torn apart if I don't get back to supervise them." She lifted one hand away from herself and gestured around the lake, looking across the glittering water. "I'm glad there's no one else around. It makes me feel a lot better."

  As she turned to walk away, he saw the place on her arm where she'd been clutching herself. Her fingerprints stood out in a row of angry red spots, silent witnesses to the desperation of her grip. He stared at her arm as he watched her leave, and cursed himself.

  Abby hurried away from the beach, conscious of Damien's gaze on her back. Straightening her spine, she swore that he would see none of the mix of emotions churning in her gut. She wouldn't give him a hint of how his rejection stung, or the embarrassment of having to look at him afterward, or the shock of her own response.

  Her whole body trembled with the memory. Never would he even suspect what his casual kiss had done to her, she vowed fiercely. If he could dismiss it so casually, then so could she.

  She paused at the door of the cabin, unable to stop herself from looking back at him. He stood on the beach, looking out over the lake, his hands jammed into the pockets of his black jeans. He was no more than fifty feet away from her, but it might as well have been five thousand.

  As she listened to the twins giggling on the other side of the screen door, she kept her gaze on the solitary man on the beach. He wrapped himself in a cloak of isolation, drawing it more tightly around him whenever someone threatened to snatch it away. Her gaze lingered on him, absorbing the taut way he held himself, his unnatural stillness as he stared out over the lake. She could almost feel the tension radiating off his hard, lean body.

  She'd never seen anyone as solitary as Damien Kane. Even surrounded by other people, he was alone. Something stirred inside her, a feeling she recognized with astonishment as sympathy. No one should have to endure that kind of soul-numbing isolation.

  What had happened in Damien's life that had forced him to build that wall around himself, the wall that imprisoned him just as surely as it kept out the rest of the world? Abby watched him for a while, then jumped when a small hand pressed against the screen door in front of her.

  "We're finished with our chores, Aunt Abby," two voices chorused. "Can we go down to the lake?"

  Abby looked at the man standing on the sand one more time, then turned to the two expectant faces on the other side of the door. "Let me finish my chores, then I'll go with you." Stepping into the cabin, she let the door close gently behind her, shutting out the sight of Damien alone on the beach.

  * * *

  Less than twelve hours later, Abby tossed restlessly on her bed, thinking about the uncomfortable evening that had just passed. Damien had made an effort to be pleasant to the girls, asking them questions and listening politely to their endless chatter. But she could feel the strain behind his voice. His tension had been so palpable she'd felt like she could almost reach out and touch it.

  Luckily neither Maggie nor Casey had seemed to notice. Maggie had been her usual reserved self around Damien, but she wasn't afraid of him. And Casey had talked constantly, oblivious to Damien's increasing discomfort.

  But she had noticed it. She had also noticed the way Damien braced himself whenever one of the twins came too close, as if preparing himself for a hurtful blow. And she hadn't missed the flash of longing, so intense it was like a physical pain, that fille
d his eyes when he looked up and saw the twins unexpectedly.

  What haunted this man? she wondered as she kicked the sheets away from her legs. What had put that pain in his eyes? As she lay in the darkness, she told herself that it didn't matter, that it was none of her business.

  Just a little more than twelve hours ago she would have agreed and rolled over and fallen asleep. This morning she wouldn't have lost any sleep at all over it. But Damien's kiss had changed things. He'd made her feel like a woman, desired and desirable. He'd managed to touch a part of her that she'd thought was completely hidden away, carefully protected from the world. After her disastrous experience with her fiancé, she'd sworn she wouldn't risk her heart again.

  Now she felt exposed and vulnerable, and she didn't like it. Rolling over again, she punched her pillow once more and closed her eyes, determined to put Damien Kane and his problems out of her mind for good.

  The ceiling fan whirred quietly above her in the silence, and she listened to the other night noises as she tried to relax. No sounds came from the inside of the house. Maggie and Casey were sound asleep in the bunk beds on the other side of the room and had been for hours. Damien, presumably, slept in the bedroom on the other side of the twins. Allowing the drone of the fan to relax her, she was almost asleep when she heard the sound from outside her window.

  Heart pounding, she was instantly awake and alert. What had made that noise? To her sensitive ears it sounded like a gunshot in the trees beyond her window, but as she struggled to sit up she realized it was no more than branches cracking underfoot.

  It was just an animal, she told herself as the blood roared in her ears. It was nothing more than a creature of the night going about its business. Lying back down, she tried to close her eyes and sleep, but it was impossible. Finally giving in to the inevitable, she slipped out of bed.

  As she stepped out of their room, a dark shadow materialized in front of her and grabbed her wrist. Before she could speak, it said, "It's me, Abby."

  Damien's hand shifted on her wrist, holding her more gently. His fingers barely touched her, but the imprint of his fingertips burned themselves into her skin.