by Rita Herron
“I’m sorry,” Sage said. “We honestly didn’t mean to frighten you or your son.” She reached inside her purse and handed the woman a card with her name and number. “I own the B and B in Cobra Creek. If you ever need anything, even just a friend to talk to, I’m there.”
“I haven’t made many friends ’cause I’ve been on the run. Thanks.” Tears blurred the other woman’s eyes as she gripped the card between her fingers. “I’ll pray that you find your son.”
Sage battled tears of her own. Tears for the woman whose little boy had to be afraid of his own father.
Tears for her child, who could be safe somewhere—or in danger from whomever had stolen him.
* * *
COMPASSION FOR SAGE filled Dugan as they walked back to his SUV. Gandt escorted them, his disapproval evident.
“You two need to go home and let me do my job. You can’t be scaring women and children like this.”
“We didn’t mean to frighten them,” Sage said.
Gandt’s nostrils flared. “But you did.”
“Only because she had something to hide,” Dugan said, refusing to let Gandt intimidate him. If the man had done his job as he should have, Dugan wouldn’t have jumped in to help Sage.
Gandt folded his beefy arms. “Hear me and hear me good. If I receive another call like this one, I’ll lock both of you up just to get you off the street so that I can do my job.”
With a deep grunt, he turned and strode back to his car.
Dugan slid behind the steering wheel, irritated that Gandt waited until Sage climbed in his SUV and he pulled away from the curb before he started his squad car.
The sound of Sage’s breathing rattled between them.
He turned onto the main road, then sped back toward Cobra Creek, but his mind kept replaying that phone call from Junior Rankins’s son.
Had Rankins killed himself because of the cancer or because he was embarrassed that he’d been duped by Lewis?
Or had someone killed Rankins because he’d talked to them? Because they feared he knew something that would lead them to Lewis’s killer?
* * *
SAGE STRUGGLED TO hold herself together. If she fell apart, Dugan might drop her case.
But Benji’s innocent face flashed in her mind, and she closed her eyes, vying for courage. A mother was supposed to protect her child. Keep him safe and guide him through life. Comfort him when he was scared, chase the monsters away and sacrifice everything to give him a good life.
She had failed at all of those.
She wrapped her arms around her middle, counting the minutes until they reached the B and B. Anxious to be alone and vent her emotions, she opened the SUV door as soon as Dugan parked.
The Christmas lights mocked her, twinkling along the street and the fence in front of the B and B. A blow-up Santa waved to her from across the street at the children’s clothing shop, making her throat thick with unshed tears.
She wrestled with her keys, fumbling, then dropping them on the front porch. Dugan’s footsteps pounded behind her. Then suddenly he was there, retrieving her keys and unlocking the door for her.
He caught her arm before she could rush inside. “Let me check the inn first.”
God... She’d forgotten about the break-in and the attack.
He gestured for her to wait on the porch swing, and she sank onto it and knotted her hands together, looking out at the twinkling Christmas lights and the darkness as he pulled his gun and inched inside.
It felt like hours but was probably only minutes before he returned, holstering his gun as he approached. “It’s clear.”
She nodded, too upset to speak. If she lost it, he’d probably stop helping her and then she’d be all alone again, with no one looking for her son.
* * *
DUGAN KNEW HE should walk away. Leave Sage to deal with the fallout of the day.
Focus on the case.
He wanted to see the original file on the investigation into Benji’s disappearance and Lewis’s automobile accident.
But he’d made an enemy of Gandt, and the sheriff probably wouldn’t hand over the file. So how could he get it?
Maybe the deputy? If he refused, he’d sneak in and steal it....
Sage looked up at him, her eyes luminous with unshed tears, then she stood and stepped toward the door.
“Thanks, Dugan.”
Dammit, she was trying to be so strong. Holding herself together when he knew she was hurting inside.
He’d be a damn, cold-hearted bastard to walk away right now.
“I’m going to review the notes in the original file when Benji first disappeared,” he said in a feeble attempt to soothe her.
She nodded, her back to him, clenching her purse strap with a white-knuckled grip. “You’re not giving up?”
“No.”
Hell, he wished he could. But he wanted answers now himself. Not just for her.
But for that innocent little boy out there who might be suffering God knows what. Who might not even know that his amazing mother missed him every day.
A mother who would sacrifice anything for her son.
Sage was strong and gutsy and tenderhearted and beautiful, both inside and out.
He stepped inside with her, so close he inhaled her scent. Some kind of floral fragrance that smelled natural, like a spring garden before the Texas summer heat robbed it of life.
She shivered, totally unaware of the effect she had on him.
Needing to touch her and reassure her that she wasn’t alone, he rubbed her arms with his hands. “I made you a promise, and I intend to keep it. I won’t stop until we know what happened to your son.”
Sage turned toward him then, her face so angelic and tortured that it broke his heart. “No one keeps promises anymore,” she whispered.
Dugan had let people down before. Hell, he’d let himself down.
But he would not let down this strong, loving woman who needed someone on her side.
“I do,” he said simply.
But there was nothing simple about it. He just couldn’t walk away.
Her gaze met his, and his heart clenched. A second later, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her, his lips telling her all the things that his heart couldn’t say.
Chapter Fifteen
Sage felt as if she was unraveling from the inside out.
Dugan’s arms around her gave her strength, and she leaned into him, grateful not to be alone.
His kiss set her on fire and aroused long-forgotten needs. Desperate for more, to be even closer to him, she parted her lips in invitation. Dugan made a low sound in his throat, a passionate sound that made her heart flutter.
He deepened the kiss, teasing her with his tongue as his hands raked down her back. Her nipples budded to hard peaks, aching for attention, and she threaded her fingers in his hair and moaned.
Titillating sensations tingled through her as he splayed his hands across her hips and pulled her closer. His thick length rubbed against her belly, stirring her passion.
He ended the kiss, then trailed his lips down her neck and teased the sensitive skin behind her ear. She moaned softly and unfastened the top button of his shirt. He lowered his head, his tongue dancing down her neck, and then he used his teeth to tug at the neckline of her sweater.
Sage wanted more.
She made quick work of his buttons, then pushed his shirt aside and kissed his neck and chest. His chest was rock solid, bronzed, muscles corded and hard. She traced his nipple with her tongue, then sucked it gently.
Dugan groaned, gripped her arms and pulled away. “We should stop.”
“No,” Sage said. “Please, Dugan. I don’t want to be alone right now.”
“And I don’t want to take advantage of you,” he said gruffly.
“You aren’t.” She raised her head and brushed her lips across his neck, a seductive maneuver that seemed to trigger his passion, then led him to her bedroom.
With a low groan, he tugge
d her sweater over her head. She lifted her arms, eager to be closer, for skin to touch skin. She pushed his shirt off and dropped it to the floor.
His dark gaze devoured her, his look hungry and appreciative. He gently eased her bra strap over her shoulder, then the other, and heat curled in her abdomen.
“You are beautiful,” he said in a low, husky murmur.
Sage started to shake her head no. She didn’t want words, didn’t know if she believed them.
She simply wanted to feel tonight. To forget that he was with her only because she’d asked him to help her find Benji.
God...Benji...what was she doing?
Dugan must have realized her train of thought, because he tilted her chin up, forcing her to look into his eyes. The heat and hunger burning there sparked her own raw need.
“It’s okay to feel, to take comfort,” he said. “That doesn’t mean you’ve forgotten your son. That you’re a bad mother for needing someone.”
Tears threatened, but his forgiving words soothed her nerves. The past two years, she had experienced guilt on a daily basis. Guilt for being alive when her little boy might not be.
“Shh, don’t think,” Dugan murmured against her ear.
She nodded and shut out the turmoil raging inside her as he kissed her again. He brushed his fingers across her nipples, teasing them again to stiff peaks, then he lowered his mouth and closed his lips over one nipple, sucking her gently and stirring sensations in her womb.
Sage reached for his belt buckle, her body burning with the need to have him inside her.
* * *
DUGAN CALLED HIMSELF all kinds of fool for letting things go as far as they had with Sage. But she’d looked too forlorn, defeated and disappointed for him to leave her alone tonight.
Her fingers skated over his chest, eliciting white-hot heat on his skin. Touched and honored that she wanted to be with him, he paused for a moment to drink in her beauty. Her breasts were high, round, firm.
One touch of his lips to her nipples and she clutched at him with a groan. He tugged the turgid peak between his teeth and suckled her, his own body on fire, with hunger for more.
The hiss of his zipper rasping on his jeans as she lowered it sounded erotic, and made him reach for hers, as well. He peeled them down her legs. A pair of the sheerest black lacy panties he’d ever seen accentuated her curves and hinted at the secrets that lay below.
His mouth watered.
She blushed at his perusal, and he threaded one hand into her hair while he trailed kisses along her neck and throat. She moaned and ran her hands down his chest, then over his hips, and his body jerked as sensations splintered through him.
She shoved his boxers down his thighs, and his sex sprang free, pulsing with need. Full, hard, thick. Then her hand closed around him, and he hissed between his teeth at the pure pleasure rippling through him.
But he had to slow things down. Tonight wasn’t about him but about pleasing her. Giving her comfort. Reassuring her that it was okay for her to feel alive when she still had questions about her son.
Sometimes you had to feel that life in order to move past the darkness and survive.
He gently eased her down on the bed, his gaze raking in her feminine curves. She arched her back, like a contented cat, and he smiled, then tugged her lacy panties down over her hips. Cool air hardened her nipples again, making heat flood him as he rose above her and kissed her again.
Their tongues danced, mated, played a game of seduction, then he ripped his mouth from hers and trailed his tongue down her body again. He made love to her with his mouth, suckling each breast until she threw back her head and groaned. Then his tongue played down her torso, circled her belly button, and dipped lower to taste her sweet essence.
He eased her legs farther apart, lifted her hips and drove his mouth over her heat, tasting, teasing, devouring her as a starving man would his last meal.
Seconds later, her release trembled through her. He savored her sweetness as she cried out his name and gave herself to him.
* * *
SAGE SHIVERED WITH mindless pleasure. She closed her eyes, clawing at the covers as sensation after sensation rippled through her.
Dugan didn’t pull away, though, as Ron had done. He consumed her with his mouth.
She groaned his name and reached for him, wanting more. Needing more.
Craving all of him.
The muscles in his arms bunched and flexed as he finally rose above her. He had an athlete’s muscular body, broad shoulders, corded muscles. And hints of his Native American heritage in his slick dark chest.
The fierceness of a warrior in his dark, endlessly sexy, bedroom eyes touched her soul.
Eyes that had once seemed distant and unbending but now flickered with stark, raw passion.
She lowered her hand, cradled his thick length in her palm and stroked him. He threw back his head on a guttural moan, and feminine power raged through her.
“I want you, Sage,” he said between clenched teeth.
She stroked him again, guiding him to her core. “I want you, too.”
His breath rattled in the air as he left her for a moment, and she twisted, achy and missing him. He dug a condom from the pocket of his jeans on the floor, and started to roll it on.
She held out her hand and urged him to come to her. His eyes flared with unadulterated lust as she slipped the condom over his erection.
With one quick thrust, he entered her. Sage’s body exploded with need and pleasure. He pulled out and thrust back inside her again, filling her to the depths of her soul with his rawness.
She gripped his hips, angling hers so he could reach deeper, and he rasped her name, his movements growing faster and harder as he plunged inside her. She wrapped her legs around his waist and clutched his back, their skin gliding together as they built a frantic rhythm and another orgasm began to spike.
A deep animal-like sound erupted from his throat, his release triggering her own, and together they rode the waves of pleasure.
Dugan’s labored breathing echoed in the air as they lay entwined in the aftermath of their lovemaking. But he pulled away too quickly and strode to her bathroom.
A minute later, he returned. His expression looked troubled, his body tense.
Naked, he was so sexy and masculine that she reached for him again. The familiar guilt threatened, but she shut it out and pulled him back in bed with her.
He wrapped his arms around her, and she curled against him. “Sage?”
“Don’t say anything,” she said softly. She especially didn’t want an apology or promises that he couldn’t keep.
She trusted him to help her find her son, but she’d vowed never to chance losing her heart again.
All she wanted tonight was to have him comfort her and keep her warm and chase away the nightmares.
Those would be waiting in the morning, just as they had been for the past two years.
* * *
DUGAN WAITED UNTIL Sage fell asleep, then slid from beneath the covers and dressed. He walked downstairs and outside to the back deck overlooking the creek.
Dammit, he shouldn’t have taken Sage to bed.
Normally he considered himself a love-’em-and-leave-’em kind of guy. Sex was sex. No attachments. No emotional ties.
He was not the kind of man to stick around or to belong to a family. Hell, he’d never been part of a real one and figured he’d screw it up just as his old man had.
The old man he’d never known.
Besides, letting emotions get in the way caused him to lose focus. And right now he needed to focus on finding Benji.
That one lead hadn’t panned out, but the little boy’s picture was all over the news, so hopefully if he was still alive, someone would spot him.
Yeah, right. If whoever had Benji had kept his identity a secret for two years, they certainly wouldn’t want to be found now. Worse, the story might cause the person to panic and flee the state, even the country.
; To take on another name, go into hiding somewhere completely off the grid.
He texted Jaxon and asked him to be sure to alert airports, train stations, bus stations and border patrols to look for Benji.
Somewhere in the woods, leaves rustled. The wind whipped them into a frenzy. An animal howled.
He stepped closer to the end of the porch, searching the darkness. Was that a shadow near the creek?
Senses on alert, he studied the trees and creek edge, hunting for a predator.
Another noise, and he spotted a figure slipping behind a boulder.
Dugan pulled his gun from his holster, descended the porch steps and crept through the woods. The figure moved again, tree branches crackling. Something darted across the dark...the figure running?
He hunkered low, using the trees as cover as he moved closer. A noise to the right startled him, and he glanced toward it. A flicker of a light. A thin stream of smoke.
Hadn’t Sage mentioned that her attacker smelled like cigarette smoke?
Had he returned to make good on his threat?
* * *
“THEY’VE GOT HALF the country looking for that little boy. You have to do something. No one can ever know what we did.”
“Dammit, I’m doing the best I can.”
“Kill the woman if you have to. She’s getting too close. She went to see Janelle Dougasville today.”
“What did that woman tell them?”
“She told them about Sandra Peyton.”
Hell. The Dougasville woman should have kept her trap shut.
Now Sandra Peyton had to die.
Chapter Sixteen
Dugan rounded the corner of the oak, his gun drawn. “Hold it or I’ll shoot.”
A shriek echoed in the air, and then the silhouette of a man filled his vision. A thin young man with his hands up in surrender. “Please, don’t shoot, mister.”
Dugan frowned, then pulled a penlight from his pocket and aimed it at the guy. Damn. He was a teenager. A big guy who looked as though he might play football.
And he was shielding the girl behind him, who was frantically rebuttoning her blouse.
“A little cold to be out here in the woods this time of night, don’t you think?” Dugan asked.
