Thunder at Dawn Page 18

  She’d only known that he’d abandoned her without a phone call or a letter or, as far as she was concerned, a thought.

  And the past ten years hadn’t shown her one damned thing different.

  “What do you want me to say? That I understand?” She pushed herself off the sofa and walked away from him to the window, where creamy lace curtains were pulled back with gold satin ties, framing the night.

  “I do understand,” she said in a low tone. Stay calm. Stay controlled. “You did the honorable thing.”

  But not where Pete was concerned, a voice inside of her whispered, the same voice that prosecuted people who committed a crime and left the scene. The voice couldn’t understand how someone could run off and leave a person they’d injured, whether it was deliberately or inadvertently.

  “You don’t owe me any explanations, Zach. Especially not now.”

  “That’s a load of crap.”

  She heard heavy footsteps behind her, coming fast, and she turned to face him. His hands clamped down on both shoulders, gripping her tightly.

  “I hated myself, Faith. I hated the mess I’d created, I hated my life. I hated everyone that night—my father, my aunt and uncle, Alicia, everyone. Except you.”

  “You could have fooled me.” Unbidden, the words broke from her lips. “Do you call what you did love? Do you remember what we said to each other that very afternoon? On Snowflake Mountain? Do you?”

  She was trembling beneath the grip of his hands. Her eyes glittered with all the pain and fury she’d kept rigidly in check for ten years.

  “I remember every word, Faith.” His hands suddenly cupped her face. “I told you I loved you—that I always would. That we would be together, that you were the only girl I’d ever marry—”

  “That lasted a long time, didn’t it? What was it, four, five hours?” The bitter, sarcastic words exploded from her. She pushed at his chest, knocked his hands aside.

  “Don’t touch me, Zach. Don’t you ever dare touch me again. If you had called me—just once—and told me what happened, about Alicia, about Pete . . . if you’d thought about me for even one second after you got that phone call from Alicia—”

  “I did. Damn it, I did. I thought about you, about how I’d dragged you into the mess of my life. I knew my going back to Alicia was going to hurt you. But I figured I deserved for you to hate me, and that it would be better for you if you damn well did. It’d make it easier to forget about me and go on with your life.”

  Bitterness thickened his voice and in his eyes she saw the flash of anger and long-ago desperation.

  “I knew, Faith, I knew that night—I was never coming back. I was marrying someone else, a girl who’d never meant more than a beer and a laugh to me, a girl who had told me flat out that she had a bottle of sleeping pills under her pillow, enough pills to kill a horse, and if I didn’t get back there, she was going to swallow them all, kill herself and our baby. Did you need that? Did you need to be dragged into all that crap I faced when I left Thunder Creek, crap I created and had to drown in, and that had nothing to do with you?”

  “Nothing to do with me?” Hard, almost hysterical laughter bubbled up. “How dare you? I loved you, Zach. I wanted to spend my life with you. And you swore the same thing. Then you locked me out without a word. You could have explained, you could have said good-bye. Maybe there would have been a way to work it all out, together—a way for us to have a future—”

  “That was never going to happen. Deke Andrews would have made sure I married Alicia even if I’d wanted to balk—which I never would have done. And my own father would have shot me if I’d tried. There was no room for you in that situation, Faith. I wanted you to hate me as much as I hated myself. I wanted for you to never look back—”

  She slapped him. The loud crack of her hand across his face echoed through the room.

  “I’ve done nothing but look back,” she whispered in agony. “It was never finished, Zach. I told myself a million times it was a teenage crush, first love, it would never have lasted anyway. But I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Wanting you. I had other boyfriends. I was even engaged.” Her voice broke. “But I never felt again the way I felt about you—”

  “And now?” He cut her off, his gaze burning into hers. “How do you feel now?” He caught her to him, his arms tight around her. “God, Faith, tell me there’s a chance—any kind of chance—”

  “Why? So you can marry me to make your son happy?”

  For a moment, Zach was stunned. Then his face tightened and he released her so abruptly she nearly stumbled.

  “Maybe you’re right, Faith. I guess it is too late for us.”

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.” But her stomach was dropping. Oh, God, that last remark . . . talk about a low blow. It was as bad as when she’d accused him of trying to manipulate the town with his donation. Both of them no doubt more painful than when she’d slapped him. What was wrong with her? She’d turned into a bitch. She wasn’t sure whom she hated more . . . herself or Zach.

  “It’s no use,” she whispered, turning away. “This is all . . . pointless. I have to go.” The tears fell. She brushed at them with the back of her hand, reached for her purse on the coffee table. Grief wracked her heart and the tears fell faster. Zach intercepted her as she moved toward the door. He stopped her, took her hand, enclosed it gently within his.

  “Why are you crying, Faith?”

  “Because I . . . hurt you. Because it’s . . . too late.”

  Zach felt like he’d just been spit out of the eye of a hurricane. Hope like a patch of blue sky after darkness filled his vision. “If that’s how you feel, maybe it isn’t,” he said softly. “I have an idea.”

  “What? You hit me back and then we’re even?”

  “No. Hit me again. Let it all out,” he suggested. There was a faint smile at the corners of his lips, but his tone was serious.

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” She sniffed and, with her free hand, swiped at the tears on her cheeks. Outside, the silence of the night cracked with a slow roll of thunder.

  “I mean it. I have it coming,” he said. “Come on.” He lifted her hand, touched it to his stubbled jaw. “Right here, Barclay. One big one.”

  He released her fingers then. And waited, watching her beautiful, expressive face.

  “Zach . . . I’m going.”

  “You’re passing up your chance?”

  “Fool that I am.” A ghost of a smile flickered in her eyes as she started to move around him.

  But Zach seized her again and drew her gently into his arms. “I’m not a fool. And I’m not passing up my chance.”

  He pulled her closer. His hand swept through her hair, touching those wild toffee curls, sliding down to caress the feminine curve of her jaw. He saw her eyes widen, soften, saw the alarm in the center of them, felt the quiver run through her. It wasn’t fear or distaste he saw in her face, satisfaction pumping through him. It was yearning. Desire. Her mouth trembled and he felt her body quiver against his.

  “Your housekeeper could walk in any second, Zach. Let me go.”

  “I gave Neely the night off. And the next few days as well. She’s leaving at six in the morning to vist her sister in Santa Fe.”

  Faith’s heart beat faster. Realization struck. “You planned this . . . you lured me here—”

  “You wanted to come. The way you kissed me today—”

  “You kissed me.”

  “I believe it’s time we settled that once and for all.”

  He didn’t wait for permission. Or for protest. His mouth captured hers in a kiss that blew the lid off her calm, her focus, her self-protective instincts.

  Faith wanted to push him away, but instead she clung to his shoulders, feeling her insides dissolving, her knees turning to oatmeal. Kevin had never kissed her like this. Like he couldn’t get enough of her, like she was air, light, sun.

  Zach kissed her like she was life itself, and he tasted like fire and spice, mu
sk and wine.

  The past faded away. So did the future. There was only now . . . now as his tongue slid along hers, now as his hands dipped inside the V of her sweater, now as they slipped beneath the lace of her bra. She made a sound of pleasure, a plea for mercy, a murmur for more, even as she raised herself on tiptoe, drew his head down to her and took the kiss deeper, drawing him into her, craving him, all of him, with an intensity that had her tearing at the buttons on his shirt, squirming eagerly beneath his caressing hands.

  She grabbed at his unbuttoned shirt, dragged him with her to the sofa, and, ignoring his chuckle, pushed him down beneath her on the cushions.

  “That’s right, have your way with me,” he groaned against her lips as she straddled him, her mouth never leaving his.

  “Be careful what you wish for, Zach,” Faith half gasped, half laughed as she struggled with his shirt and managed with his help to drag it off his broad shoulders and down those heavily muscled arms.

  Her lips caught at his and sank against his warm mouth, unexpectedly soft for such a tough man. Her body sank against his too. She couldn’t get enough of him. Kissing him, touching him, was so familiar, so wonderful, and yet it was all new, different from what she remembered. If anything, the pleasure was hotter, sweeter, than before. Though Zach’s teenage technique had never lacked for firepower, he was a man now and knew just how to touch her, just how to kiss her to make the pit of her stomach melt like butter on a griddle.

  He dragged her sweater over her head and nuzzled at her breasts even as his fingers unlatched her bra. It landed somewhere on the floor, but Faith didn’t give a damn where because her breasts were on fire and Zach’s mouth was lighting the flames. She moaned, throwing her head back as he licked and sucked at her nipples. They had hardened into rigid aching peaks so sensitive to his touch she had to bite back a scream of pleasure.

  Squirming, groping, they twisted together on the sofa, stripping each other of all their clothes, of every barrier between them. Zach flipped her over, bracing himself on either side of her with his forearms, gazing down into her face, sheened with desire.

  “Zach,” she whispered, and there was no playfulness in her eyes or her tone anymore. Now she was gazing at him with need. Raw, naked need.

  He recognized it instantly in those glorious dream-blue eyes, in the restless movements of her hot body beneath him, because he felt it too. Oh, God, did he. He’d never wanted anyone so much.

  “Come inside me, Zach.” Faith pulled his head down to her, her fingers locking around his neck. “Now. Please.”

  “Not just yet, baby.” He smiled gently, but the sensuous shimmer in her eyes and the feel of her soft, sleek body beneath him was making him wild. Tension pulsed through him and he fought to retain control. Tracing his tongue around the soft edges of her mouth, he slid his hand downward, across her belly, and then between her thighs. Her body clenched and her breathing quickened as he began to stroke the silky curls. She was slick, hot, and very ready, and he groaned against her lips.

  “I’ve dreamed about this, Faith. So many times. I’ve wanted you. Only you.” Fire burned in those wolf-gray eyes. He pushed her thighs apart. “Always you.”

  Her heart cracked into a thousand shimmering pieces. He kissed her eyelids, her cheeks. Her mouth. She pulled him down to her, holding him as if she was afraid he would disappear in a puff of mist, wanting him close, closer as hot sensuous pleasure drowned her and he slowly licked her ear as he pushed himself inside her.

  Gasping, she opened herself to him, her nails digging into his back. She bucked beneath him, wild and desperate as the wind tore at the windows and Zach made love to her with his body and his mouth and his eyes, taking her to a place of lightning and thunder and kisses soft as rain.

  When the explosion came and rocked them both to their core, Faith felt shudder after shudder. Tears sprang to her eyes at the moment of release, and when their breathing began to slow she kissed his neck, buried her face against his shoulder, and tried to lock him inside her.

  “Don’t leave me,” she heard herself murmur as if from a great distance.

  Her arms were still tight around his neck. “Stay.”

  He did, kissing her throat, stroking her face. After a while he groaned and laughed, shifting just enough so that she lay beside him, cradled in his arms, their bodies touching everywhere, her hair soft as silk beneath his cheek.

  They lay like that for a while in the silent house, until at last Zach stirred and pushed himself off the sofa. He stood naked and comfortable and magnificent beside her.

  “Come on, Sleeping Beauty.”

  “Where?” she murmured, her eyes soft as blue clouds in the lamplight. At that moment she was so easy she knew she’d follow him if he leaped off Cougar Mountain.

  Zach saw that the wariness was gone, and his desire spiked again.

  “Someplace where we can be more comfortable,” he promised her.

  As she tilted her head questioningly, he gave her the slow grin that had made her fall in love with him and scooped her up in his arms.

  “Where do you think, Barclay? I’m taking you to bed.”

  Sometime after 2 A.M. they both came up for air.

  The sheets and blankets on the king-size bed were twisted and scattered across the floor, and the black-and-white geometric down quilt half covered their sweat-sheened bodies.

  “I think we’ve almost made up for lost time,” Faith muttered exhaustedly against Zach’s shoulder. She was limp and breathless, and knew she’d probably be sore tomorrow, but a peaceful kind of euphoria filled her.

  “I feel like I’m nineteen again,” she confessed, pressing a kiss to his chest.

  “I feel like I’m alive again.” Zach stroked her back. “Like I’ve been asleep ever since that day when I left here, running through a black tunnel that led nowhere like some idiot kid.”

  “Which you were,” she reminded him. “A kid, not an idiot. Zach, I should go home.”

  “No way, baby.” He leaned over her, gently pinning her to the bed. “You’re staying put. We’re having a sleepover, as Dillon would say.”

  “Um, we’re not getting much sleep,” she pointed out.

  “Yeah, well, who needs sleep?”

  Faith smiled as he kissed her, and her hands smoothed his tousled hair. She ran her finger along the dark stubble on his jaw and felt wonder fill her, and joy—and a nagging doubt.

  “You didn’t seduce me just so I wouldn’t go back to the cabin alone, did you?”

  “That was just one of my many complex motivations. Got a problem with it?”

  “As a matter of fact, I do. On general principles.”

  He laughed. “Doesn’t surprise me, Faith. Go ahead, I know you’ll do it anyway. Explain.”

  “I’m a smart, very capable woman and I can take care of myself. I strongly resent the notion that I need to stay here with you to be safe. I have a gun, a security system, a phone, a car . . .”

  “I have all that here too.”

  “But this is your home and I don’t need your protection—or Roy’s,” she said quickly before he could interject. “Or anyone’s—”

  “What if Bayman is out there—watching you, planning to come after you? What if he knows by now where you’re staying and that you’re alone? It’s going to be a lot harder for him to get to you here,” Zach said. “Once you move in, he won’t necessarily know where to look for you—not to mention the fact that there’s people around this place all the time—”

  “Move in?” she interrupted, staring at him as if he’d lost his mind.

  “Batman can guard you when I’m not around—”

  “And what about your son—Dillon? Remember him?”

  “Won’t be back for two weeks. Maybe Bayman—or whoever killed Candy—will be caught by then.”

  “Zach.” She leaned forward, touched her mouth to his. “You’re . . . moving kind of fast, aren’t you?” She pushed herself to a sitting position and sat up. Zach shifted, lounging
beside her, unable to keep his gaze from the sexy bounce of her breasts as she sat up or from the sensuous tumble of her hair past her shoulders. Her slim body looked creamy white and delicate in the big, masculine master bedroom with its black plantation shutters, square gray rug over hardwood floors, and the oak furniture that had been in the family for generations. He usually paid little attention to the room, but with Faith here, it seemed brighter, more in focus and more cozy, a handsome comfortable backdrop for her sensuous, effortless femininity.

  “I’m not moving fast at all. It’s been ten years since we last made love. You don’t get much slower than that.”

  “True.” Her lips quirked. “But making love is one thing . . . moving in with you just because Candy Merck was murdered is quite another.”

  “She was murdered on your property. Within steps of your front door.” All of the teasing and amusement was gone from his tone. Zach’s eyes were thunderstorm dark now, as serious as she’d ever seen them.

  “There’s a connection there, Faith. Add it to those phone calls you’ve been getting, and Bayman’s history of violence and instability. You have something he wants. He’s disappeared from view. I can’t prove that he’s here, that he killed Candy for some reason known only to him, but I feel it. And so do you.”

  She bit her lip. The evidence wasn’t in, but it was a theory. A solid one. And in her gut . . .

  She remembered the creepy feeling in town that someone was watching her, a sense of unseen evil . . .

  “All right.” She raked a hand through her hair. “You win. I’ll stay tonight. Maybe for a few days. Let’s see where Keene’s investigation goes.”

  “I knew you had a brain beneath all that beauty.”

  She laughed and tossed a pillow at him.

  He caught it and threw it back.

  Before she could escape, he dove at her and pinned her beneath him once more.

  “Make love, not war?” Faith gasped, pretending to struggle, but actually wrapping her legs snugly around his.

  “Now you’re talking, baby.”

  Faith closed her eyes as he kissed her long and languidly. She drank in the kisses and stroked his muscled back, opening herself to him and taking him deep inside her once again.