by Lisa Childs
She bit her lip to hold in a cry. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
“You’re going to sign now or I’ll break your arm.” He was big enough, and crazy enough, to back up his threat.
She tried to wrest free, but his fingers only tightened. And the cry slipped out, torn from her burning throat. “No! Let me go! Annie needs me.”
“Nobody needs you,” he said with a short, maniacal laugh, “and now you’re going to die.”
The door from the foyer slammed open, and Reed filled the doorway. “Let her go, Jorgen. It’s over.”
The lawyer reached into his briefcase, pulling a gun from an inside pocket.
“Reed!” Sasha screamed out the warning. But Reed didn’t duck back out. He didn’t leave her alone with the madman.
“Should have used this from the start,” Albert Jorgen said, but he didn’t point the gun toward the sheriff. No, he pressed the barrel to Sasha’s temple. “One move, bitch, and it’s all over.”
“It’s all over for you right now, Jorgen. Put the gun down.”
The big man shook his head. “No, this and her are my ticket out of here. I have my boat parked at the dock. You’re going to let me get to it, Reed, or you’re going to watch your lover die. Right here, right before your eyes.”
The cold barrel pressed tight to Sasha’s head, she didn’t dare move. Didn’t breathe. She was going to die. It didn’t matter whether or not she fought. Her fate was sealed, like her sister’s had been.
But Reed was here now. Reed could save her.
Instead he stepped away from the door, letting the lawyer have a clear exit out, letting the lawyer take her away. She’d known she was leaving Sunset Island today, but she hadn’t thought it would be the last thing she ever did.
STEPPING ASIDE, watching Albert Jorgen drag Sasha away from him, was the hardest thing Reed had ever done. Especially when he met her eyes, wide and full of fear. And questions. How could he let her go?
It might be his only chance to save her life. And doing that was his entire focus. He heard the cries through the baby monitor, heard Annie wailing for her mommy.
“I’ll bring her back, Annie. I promise,” he said, as he watched Jorgen jerk her through the bloodstained foyer and onto the porch. The storm was just moving in from the lake, lightning and thunder clashing over the water.
The deputy, the one Reed had assigned to stay at the door, was coming up from the dock with Mrs. Arnold. Seeing the lawyer with the gun, the young officer drew his weapon.
“Call him off, Sheriff!” Jorgen yelled. “Or I’ll kill her right here.”
“You’re going to kill her, anyway,” Reed said, forcing his voice steady and free of the emotion tearing him apart.
“I’ll let her go on the dock. Let me get to my boat, let me get out of here.”
Reed had intended to get him out of the house, to get him distracted and then take him down. The lawyer was distracted now, dividing his attention between Reed and the officer on the walk.
The deputy kept his weapon, up, steady, as Reed had trained him. Mrs. Arnold cowered behind the young man, her face pale with fear.
But not as much fear as that which shone from Sasha’s bright eyes. Reed glanced at her, trying to reassure her with the brief look. That was all he could afford, as his focus had to stay on Jorgen, on the finger on the trigger.
The man was shaking, his big body trembling. A boom of thunder startled him, and he flinched. He could slip and shoot Sasha.
And that was a risk that Reed couldn’t take.
“You’re a killer, Jorgen. I can’t let you go.” He knew all the details, he’d heard them while he stood in the foyer, waiting for his opportunity to intervene.
Maybe he should have waited longer, but her cry had snapped his control. He couldn’t let anyone hurt her.
“Then I’m not going alone,” the lawyer said, his finger contracting.
A shot rang out. And a body dropped to the boards of the porch.
Chapter Fourteen
Mrs. Arnold’s scream echoed Sasha’s. Reed pulled her quivering body into his arms, for her comfort and his. His arms shook as he wrapped them tightly around her. Then, over her head, he shouted at the deputy, “Radio for aero med.”
But as he glanced down at the lawyer, he knew it was too late for the man. He lay dead, staring up at them, his eyes still full of evil.
“He’s Annie’s father,” Sasha cried, her voice broken by sobs. “He’s Annie’s father.”
“He’s nobody anymore, Sasha,” he reassured her. “He can’t hurt you. Or Annie.”
“Annie,” she gasped, pulling free of his arms. She stepped over the lawyer’s body, running into the house. To the child who cried for her mother.
He’d kept his promise to the little girl. And to Sasha. He’d found Nadine’s killer. He stared down into the dead man’s face.
Greed had driven the lawyer. He’d wanted more when he’d already had so much…the little girl he’d never claimed until the day he’d died.
REED HAD FOUND Nadine’s killer. And stopped him from killing Sasha.
More than gratitude softened Sasha’s heart toward the heroic lawman. Love. She loved him.
And now, with the killer caught, she didn’t have to leave the island. Unless he wanted her to….
He’d warned her up-front that after his divorce he wasn’t going to love again. Maybe it was time she accepted that. But when she left Annie’s room that night, hope flickered as she caught sight of the lawman leaning against her bedroom doorjamb.
“I thought you were still dealing with…”
What? Police work? The fact that he’d killed a man, for her, because she’d been so stupid she’d invited the killer inside while she was alone. Even when Nadine’s whisper had warned her not to, she had put herself at risk.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“Me, too,” he said, his deep voice a rumble in his chest. The chest she wanted to lay her head on as she listened to his heart beat strong and steady beneath her cheek. And she wanted that for always.
“I had to get him out of the house, Sasha. That’s why I let him take you outside.”
“Protecting the house?” she quipped, but she knew better. “Mrs. Arnold would have kicked your butt if you let something happen to it.”
He stepped closer, his gaze intense despite her efforts at levity. “And I would have died if I’d let something happen to you.”
“You kept your promise,” she said, stepping into his arms. No man had ever kept his promise to her before.
Words of love burned in her throat. But she didn’t dare say them. She wasn’t strong enough to face his rejection if he didn’t return her feelings.
Instead she chose to show him. She entwined her fingers with his and tugged him into the bedroom. And she proceeded to show him with loving sensuality exactly how she felt about him. First she rose up on tiptoe and teased his lips with little, whisper-soft kisses.
His breath shuddered out. “God, Sasha, I thought he was going to shoot you.” He leaned his forehead down, pressing it against hers as he gazed deep into her eyes. “Shooting him was a risk. He might have pulled the trigger….”
And taken her with him. When she’d heard the shot, so loud, so close, she’d thought it had hit her. Even though she hadn’t felt a thing, she’d thought for a moment that she was dead. Was that how it had been for Nadine? Fast? Painless? God, she hoped so.
But she hadn’t died. Because she had Reed. Then. And now. Tonight she wouldn’t think about the future. It was enough to know that she had one. Because of him.
“You saved me, Reed. And tonight I’m yours. Completely yours.”
“Tonight,” he murmured as his lips claimed hers in a tender kiss.
She ignored the little flutter of panic at his sole word choice, and instead she concentrated on the passion that burned in her blood…for Reed. Her fingers fumbled on his buttons as she hurried to undress him.
“Shhh…slow down,
” he said against her lips. “We have all night.”
Just tonight.
She understood that now, and each kiss, each caress was bittersweet. Full of tenderness…and farewell. How many times could she say goodbye to this man?
He undressed her as he’d said. Slowly. Deliberating over each button and clasp. And just as deliberately he kissed every inch of skin he exposed.
Sasha’s breath caught, trapped in her lungs as her heart beat furiously. “Reed…”
She had wanted to show him what she felt for him, wanted to show her appreciation that he had saved her life. But she was the one weak with desire. Rallying, she pressed her hands against the chest she’d frantically bared, and she pushed him back on the bed. She dragged his unzipped jeans down his legs as he laughed at her struggles.
“A little impatient, Sasha?” he teased.
“I’m tired of slow,” she said. Then she climbed atop him, straddling his waist as she planted kisses along his strong jaw, the hollow below his ear, the cords straining in his neck as his breath shuddered out. His hands shook as he caught her head, bringing her mouth back to his for desperate kisses.
His fingers unclasped her bra and pulled it from her shoulders, then he lifted her higher, pulling the tip of one breast into his mouth. Tormenting the swollen nipple with the tip of his tongue and the sharp edge of his teeth.
She moaned his name, his sweet torture bringing her to the brink of ecstasy. Then he reached between them, between her legs, teasing her more, sending her over the edge.
“Reed!” And then he was inside her, driving her up again and again until she sobbed his name. As he joined her, a ragged cry slipped through his lips.
Her name.
Just her name.
She waited, but no declaration of love followed. And she began to accept that it never would.
WATCHING HER SLEEP, curled up in his arms, was the fulfillment of every fantasy he’d ever had. Reed wanted this opportunity every night. It didn’t matter how short a time he’d known her, or how badly he’d been hurt before, he loved her. And because he loved her, he had to let her go.
She moaned and brushed her lips against his chest, her eyes opening. “Ummm…good morning.”
Was it? What he had to do was nearly as difficult as watching Jorgen hold that gun to her head the day before.
“Why so serious?” she asked, running a fingertip along his lower lip.
He resisted the urge to kiss it, to kiss her luscious mouth, swollen from their passion the night before. God, he loved her. Loved everything about her.
“It’s all over now,” she said.
After what he had to tell her, it might be. She hadn’t left yesterday, but she’d be leaving today.
“Not all of it, Sasha.”
She sighed. “I know you took it easy on me yesterday.” She moved against him. “Maybe not last night. But yesterday you spared me. You’ll need my statement.”
“I heard pretty much everything he told you, Sasha. I know about the house.”
“That it wasn’t Nadine’s.”
An ache pounded at his temple. He squeezed his eyes against the pain and the light filtering through her blinds. “And it’s not yours.”
She drew in a quick breath. “I know that. Morally I know I have to give it back. But…”
“But what?” Maybe he’d misread her. Maybe she was more like his ex…and Nadine…than he’d thought. He shouldn’t have trusted his heart.
Her face flushed. “I can’t explain. But I feel close to my sister here. Closer than we ever were when she was alive. I don’t want to lose that.”
“You have to let her go, Sasha.” His heart contracted as he felt her pain, her loss. He couldn’t take that away, but maybe he could help her deal with it. “She’s dead. Her killer is dead now.”
She jerked free of his arms and slipped out from under the blankets. “I knew you wouldn’t understand.”
“Tell me.”
“Why? You want me out of here? How long do Annie and I have to clear out, Sheriff?” Bitterness twisted those swollen lips, and anger swirled in the blue depths of her eyes.
“Sasha…”
“What? It isn’t like that? It is like that, Reed. You want me out of here. You want me gone.” And along with the anger, he heard her pain. She thought it was personal.
“The house wasn’t Nadine’s to give. It belongs to Mrs. Scott’s rightful heirs.”
“I wasn’t talking about just the house. You want me off the island. Since the killer is dead, you don’t have to protect me. Now you’re protecting yourself.”
She knew him better than he’d thought. Better than maybe he knew himself. He couldn’t deny her accusations. And he couldn’t fight them. He loved her, but she wouldn’t stay. It would hurt when she left today, but it would hurt a lot more when she left later…after he’d gotten used to waking up with her in his arms.
“You’re being unreasonable,” he said, throwing back the covers. “You know this is the right thing to do….”
“For who, Reed? You think this is the right thing for you?” she asked, her voice full of disbelief. “For Annie? For me? I know you were hurt once, badly. So was I.”
“So you know it would be crazy for us to let this go any further. We’d only get hurt.” But his aching heart told him it was already too late.
THINGS HAD ALREADY GONE too far. She loved him. Should she have told him? But then he might have stayed to help her finish packing. And since she’d done most of that the day before, it wouldn’t have taken her long. Then he might have escorted her right off the island.
Sasha understood protecting one’s heart. She’d tried that for a long time.
But she’d never loved anyone like this. There was no protection against emotions this powerful. But Reed didn’t feel the same way, hadn’t let himself feel the same.
He could let her go.
And so she had to. Or she could throw herself at him, beg for his love. She’d suffered humiliation for love before, for a man who hadn’t been worth it. Reed was worth it.
She shook her head. He was too strong. Tears, pleas, none of that would sway him, would make him ask her to stay. Only love would do that.
“You don’t have to leave,” said a deep voice, interrupting her thoughts.
Not Reed’s.
And not Charles. She’d talked to him already, not letting him past the front door this time. He’d wanted her to return to the mainland with him. She’d sent him off alone with no doubt in his mind that she would ever play substitute for Nadine again. Before turning toward the door, Sasha glanced back over her shoulder, to where the empty rocker gently moved back and forth.
Then she greeted the man who stood in the nursery doorway. Mr. Scott. “I appreciate that.” Especially after the scheme her sister had helped run on his poor mother.
“I mean it,” he said. “I’ll continue staying in the carriage house. This house is too big and too full of memories for me.”
“But what about your…”
He grimaced. “My daughters? Mrs. Arnold will never learn to keep her mouth shut. My daughters don’t visit me, Ms. Michaelson.”
“I’m sorry…” She couldn’t imagine not having a close relationship with her parents the way Nadine hadn’t. That was a regret Nadine would never be able to make up. Nor would her parents.
“I am, too,” he admitted. “It’s my fault. I was never a father to them.”
“So give them the house. Mrs. Arnold said that’s what your mother would have wanted.”
“But it’s not what they want. They have their own lives,” he said with a regretful sigh, probably because they didn’t include him. “People don’t come to Sunset Island to live. Remember what I told you. They come here to hide, to run away from their problems.”
“Like Nadine.” She’d been hiding from all her mistakes. The lawyer had taken advantage of that, of her.
“And the sheriff,” Mr. Scott pointed out.
She kne
w Reed was hiding, from his pain, his past and now from her. “It’s a beautiful place. I could see someone building a life here, staying because they wanted to, not because they have no other choice.”
And she’d stay…if Reed asked her.
“You remind me of my oldest daughter,” he said. “She’s a social worker.”
“I’m a school counselor.”
“The jobs are close. So are the attitudes. You’re caring women, strong women.”
Yeah, she was strong. She’d be okay. But she’d be alone except for Annie. She thanked God and Nadine for the little girl. But Annie needed more than just her. Annie needed Reed. Too.
With the house, she had a connection to Nadine. But that wasn’t fair. Not to Mr. Scott. Not to her. She couldn’t wait around, hoping that Reed would love her.
She had to leave. That was what he wanted.
So he could keep hiding.
“I really have no choice.” Not legally. Not emotionally. “I have to go.”
“I figured you for stubborn. So I brought you something.” He stepped into the hall, bringing a canvas back with him. The painting of her standing in the nursery window and Nadine standing just behind her.
“I can’t accept this…”
But like the house, she wanted it, wanted another connection to her sister, wanted proof that she hadn’t lost her mind when she’d heard her sister’s ghost. But she knew what one of his paintings was worth, and it was too much.
“Nonsense.” He waved away her concern. “It’s yours. You’re the only one who would truly appreciate it.”
And because he was right, she had to take it. And again she thought, what a strange man. “Thank you.”
He nodded. “Goodbye, then, Ms. Michaelson. It was nice meeting you.”
And he left her, to go back to the carriage house, back into hiding. From himself. From the mistakes he’d made.
Was she making one by leaving without a fight?
HE WATCHED HER BOARD the ferry, Annie in her arms. The wind came in off the lake, teasing her long black locks, tangling them around her face. God, she was beautiful. The most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
