Chapter 44

Nate followed Sarah into the bedroom, watching her hips sway while she unbraided her hair. When she reached the bed, she drew down the quilt and stripped off her camisole and then the PJ bottoms, leaving her in the tiniest white-lace panties he’d ever seen.

He ran his hands over his head, still surprised at the feeling of his short hair and uncertain what to do next. He knew what he wanted to do but also knew what he should do.

He should return to Kells and give him Sarah’s research, her cipher, everything Kells would need to keep Sarah safe. While Nate should be preparing for his return to the prison hospital.

“Nate.” Her breathy voice made his dick jump involuntarily. That part of him didn’t give a fuck about should. That part of him only understood raw, selfish need.

He reached for one breast with a hard, pink tip. When his finger teased, she threw back her head with a sexy moan. He did it again and again, smiling at her reactions. When he added his other hand to her other breast, her eyes closed and she almost fell on the bed.

That’s when it hit him that this would be the last time he’d be with her. A fierce heat swept through him, a hot anger at the injustice. He’d finally met the woman of his dreams at the same moment he was losing his freedom. Desire drove away away thought and regret and everything that kept him from being inside her, taking her, making her his.

With a grace the Fianna would be proud of, he swept her into his arms and laid her on the bed. He removed the white panties, then his own clothes. She watched with half-open eyes but didn’t press him. She waited because she knew that’s what he needed. And how many of the women he’d been with had done that? Had seen to his needs before theirs? None.

He stood at the end of the bed, holding himself, while she raised her arms to him. He hesitated only because once he started he’d be that much closer to leaving her.

“Nate.” She was now on her knees, on the bed, holding his face in her hands. “Does your shoulder hurt?”

“No.”

“Then please.”

Before he knew it, she was on her back, and he was driving into her. The tight, intense pleasure overrode all of his other fears. He pistoned with a ferocity he’d never experienced. Her nails scraped his ass until he rolled over, forcing her to straddle him.

She smiled and set the pace. Since it wasn’t fast enough, he held her hips and increased the speed. She arched her back, and he sat up to tease her breasts with his tongue and teeth. He used his legs to force her thighs farther apart so he could drive even deeper. It took all of his strength to keep them both upright until his last stroke when she cried out and his world—his heart—shattered.

He fell back, holding her on top of him. He kissed her head and rubbed her bare shoulders, loving the fact that her breath was choppy.

“I’ve never been so happy and sad at the same time.”

“I know.” His fingers trailed over her silky skin, and she shivered. “You’re cold.”

She snuggled into his chest. “I’m not.”

He reached around until he found the edge of the quilt and covered them. Then he saw his jeans lying on the floor, a smidgen of white cotton hanging out of the pocket. “I want to give you something.”

She kissed his chest. “You already have.”

He laughed as he reached for his jeans. Once he’d grabbed what he needed, he returned to his position with her lying on top of him. “I want you to have this.”

She raised her head to look at him. Her breasts smooshed on his chest, her long hair flowing over her shoulders. “Your handkerchief?” She shook her head. “It belonged to your mother. I can’t take it. You’ll need it in the prison hospital.”

“I can’t take it with me.” He handed it to her. “Keep it safe.”

She gripped the white handkerchief trimmed in embroidered strawberries, and he remembered the dress she’d worn earlier.

He pushed her hair away from her face. “You looked beautiful today. I’ll always remember you like that and like this and like the girl on the floor with pencils stuck in her hair.” He kissed her nose, then her lips. “If things were different, I’d be asking you to marry me.”

Because as crazy as it seemed, he already felt married.

“If things were different,” she said softly, still holding the handkerchief, “we’d already be married.”

Oh, God. “Keep it, and yourself, safe.” He pressed her head down again because he wanted to feel all of her on all of him.

“I promise.”

Her soft words made his body harden again.

He loved her, but he was also a selfish bastard. In a single move, he turned her onto her stomach. He splattered kisses down her spine while his fingers fondled. When she was ready, he lifted her hips and drove into her again. And again. And again. He took every ounce of pleasure from her body with one goal: to return it tenfold so she’d never forget him.

She cried out in pleasure, still gripping the white handkerchief, as he emptied himself inside her. On his final thrusts, two thoughts were uppermost in his mind.

He’d do anything to keep her safe. Even if he had to betray her.

* * *

An hour later, Sarah sat in the tub, nestled between Nate’s hard thighs. She was sore all over. But in a good way. In an adored sort of way. She rested her head on his chest. “Should we call Jimmy?”

“Probably. But I don’t want to.” Nate’s lips fell on her shoulder, leaving shudders in their wake. “Thank you.”

From the tension in his voice, something was wrong. “For what?”

“For being with me despite my seizures and all the horror that comes with my past.” His eyes were lowered and difficult to read. “I can’t keep my hands off you. I sure as hell can’t let you go. Yet I have no future.” His hands traveled down her arms, across her stomach, then up again until they raised her breasts above the waterline.

She wanted to moan at his touch, but she wondered if his touching her was more about staying focused in the moment. “We solved the cipher.”

One of his hands moved down to touch the soft center between her legs. She shifted so he could reach more easily, and heat flared from her lower stomach to her breasts. Every muscle contracted, and the pressure built again. How could she have anything else to give him? She tilted her head to stare at his hard jaw and grinding teeth.

“I’ve no idea what to do next,” he whispered while his fingers caught a rhythm and built on it. “But I don’t know how to let you go.”

With the pressure rising, she reached down with one hand to cover his larger one and helped him press against her core. He was hard, and she lifted herself up until his erection was just under her bottom. She felt him hiss while her breath became short and shallow.

When one of his fingers slipped inside her, the waves began. Hot, heavy vibrations that swept through her body, forcing her legs to close even tighter and their combined hands to press even harder. His finger entered deeper, and the highest wave peaked, leaving her breathless and shivering. She cried out as the last convulsion ripped through her. As quickly as she could in the tub, she turned around and straddled him.

She needed him deep inside her where she could keep him safe.

He gripped her hips while she lowered herself over him. The tight, powerful feel of him filling her up, stretching her to the limit, made her gasp. “You barely fit.”

He tightened his hold on her hips and forced her all the way down. “I fit perfectly.”

She rose up slightly, only to have him slam her down. After another up and down, she found a slow, riding rhythm that made him growl. And that made her smile. “What if I decide to keep you here? And never let you go?”

“Fine by me,” he said between his teeth just before he latched on to a nipple.

Her body had turned into a single nerve ending, sparking and jumping, while he lavished nips and sucks on one rosy tip, then the other, before reaching up and bringing her lips down to his. “Come with me, Sarah”

She rode him hard for another long moment. Fire began in her toes and traveled up, tightening her leg muscles, until her body contracted. She heard his breath shorten, saw his eyes squeeze shut just before his body exploded in one long, final thrust.

While shudders traveled the length of her body, the last of her strength gave out. She fell onto his chest, not caring that they’d splashed water everywhere. She rested her head beneath his chin. His heartbeat ran the half-minute mile while his arms tightened around her shoulders. It took another long moment before the shaking stopped and the shivering began.

That’s when she noticed the bath water had gone cold.

* * *

At eleven p.m., Sarah padded around the cabin, restless and unable to sleep. It was a dark, moonless night that made her wary and uncertain. She’d left Nate asleep in the bed and put her PJs and sweatshirt on. She’d even slipped the handkerchief in her pocket. Now that he’d given it to her, she’d never be without it.

Something was wrong with Nate. She could feel it. Their lovemaking had been amazing, even better than the night before. Still, he’d been hesitant. And when she’d asked him about it after their bath, he’d shut down. She’d even encouraged him to call Jimmy back, but there’d been no answer on the SAT phone.

She paced the room, looking at her research on the floor. She focused on the photos of Thomas’s tomb she’d taken.

Why was she uncertain? They had the cipher. They had leverage. Maybe it was because they didn’t have a plan for what to do next. They’d both been so wrapped up in the present, she hadn’t wanted to think about the future.

Needing something else to focus on, she rummaged through a kitchen drawer until finding a switchblade. Then she sat on the couch and took Rebecca’s diary out of the Ziploc bag. Although she knew she shouldn’t, she cut pages that had been stuck together by water damage and mold. The damage was extensive, and she gave up after separating only two. Gently, she turned them with the eraser end of a pencil and saw something new:

How odd.

She heard a snapping noise outside and turned off the light. It sounded like the mudroom door had been left open. As she moved into the kitchen, a masked man snagged her. His hand clamped over her mouth, and his other arm tightened around her waist.

She kicked and bit his hand, but the man wouldn’t release her. She tried to knock over a kitchen stool to make some noise and wake up Nate. Except the man moved too quickly, dragging her through the mudroom and out the back door. The night was pitch-black, and the generator’s roar meant Nate would never hear them.

The man threw her against the side of the cabin. She shook her head despite the hand over her mouth and the one keeping her wrists above her head.

“Where’s the diary?”

Etienne Marigny? She fought him until he slapped her. She fell to the side, and brilliant pain flooded her head. He forced her up, his arm on her throat. A second man wearing a hooded sweatshirt appeared out of the darkness and covered her mouth with tape. Then Etienne spun her around to wrap her wrists together behind her back.

Etienne threw her over his shoulder as if she weighed nothing. “Find it,” he said to the hooded man. “Hurry.”

The hooded man slipped inside.

She kicked at Etienne as he rounded the cabin, but it was hard with her being upside down and her arms behind her. She could tell from the way the land sloped that he was headed for the dock. Her ribs felt like they were going to crack, and every breath was agony. The further away he took her from the cabin, the more she screamed into the tape.

Once at the dock, he threw her down. She hit the wood planks hard, her head taking the brunt. Her vision blurred, and it hurt to breathe. Bile built up in her throat, and she began to hyperventilate.

If she vomited with tape over her mouth, she’d choke to death.

Etienne dragged her into a boat where theirs used to be. A dim lantern on the dock provided the only light. “Get in.”

Tears rolled down her face. She tried not to cry, but exhaustion and fear were too much. Etienne pushed her, except her hands were tied, and she fell forward. Her shins hit the seat, and her legs buckled. She had to lie down in order to shimmy onto the seat.

Someone grunted, and she turned to see another man sitting in the boat.

Even in the dark, she could tell this third man was missing an ear. He wouldn’t look at her. He was wrapped in a blanket and kept his head down.

Etienne untied the rope holding the boat to the dock. “Be friendly to Sarah. She’s Nate’s lover.”

The man lifted his head, and she flinched. It wasn’t just the deep scars circling his eyes that made her move away. It was the absolute fear in his face. Like he’d been tortured by a host of demons.

The hooded man ran down the ravine holding a Ziploc bag, grabbed the lantern, and boarded.

He’d taken the diary?

Etienne jumped in while the hooded man started the ignition. The boat rocked, and Sarah prayed Nate would hear the motor. Etienne took control of the wheel, turned on the headlights, and headed down the creek toward the river.

As they motored away, the hooded man sat near Sarah, still holding the lantern. The light cut through the darkness, and the last thing she saw on the dock was her white handkerchief.