recorder. "I just hope it worked."
"So do I." A slight edge of disbelief darkened his eyes.
Abby knew what he was thinking. That she was crazy, that it was
impossible that Greg had called her, that the tape was probably blank
and nothing more than another indication of her slipping sanity.
She rewound the tape, then pressed Play. Silence hissed on the tape.
Despair shot through Abby. Had she imagined the phone call, Greg's
voice? Was reality slipping further and further away from her?
She nearly sobbed in relief as her voice whispered "Hello?" on the
tape.
"It's me. Greg." The male voice on the tape filled the kitchen.
Luke's coffee cup crashed to the floor, spewing coffee and shattering
into a dozen pieces. He jumped out of his chair, staring at the tape
recorder. When he looked at Abby, his eyes were dilated with shock.
Chapter Nine
"Luke?" Abby stared at him, fear whispering through her at his
reaction.
He took a deep breath, some of the shock leaving his expression. "I
didn't expect to hear another voice. I thought maybe you just imagined
the phone calls. It really surprised me. So, it sounds like Greg's
voice?"
Abby nodded, relieved by his question. For a moment, seeing the shock
on his face, she'd wondered if he knew Greg. But that was impossible.
There was no way the two men could have met. "It doesn't just sound
like him ... it sounds exactly like him."
He leaned down and began picking up the pieces of the broken cup.
"Sorry about this."
"Don't worry about it."
He finished with the cup then wet a paper towel and cleaned the coffee
from the floor. When he was finished he rejoined her at the table. "So
the call before this one ... what did the caller say?"
She frowned. "About the same thing. Just, " It's me. Greg. " But
I'm telling you that's Greg's voice."
"Abby, no matter how much that voice sounds like your ex-husband's, we
both know it can't be him. Why would somebody be making calls like
this to you?"
"Belinda thinks they're pranks ... teenagers having fun at my
expense."
"Do you believe that?"
She shook her head, the coldness back inside her. "No. No teenager
could imitate Greg's voice so well. I don't know who's responsible or
why, and that's what frightens me so much."
He reached out and covered one of her hands With his own. "We'll get
to the bottom of this. Maybe you should get one of those Caller ID
boxes."
She smiled softly. "Unfortunately that technology isn't available
around here yet. If they continue, I'll call the phone company and see
if they'll put a tracer on the line."
"I don't think you should wait for the calls to continue. Call the
phone company today and get it done."
Abby stood and carried her cup to the sink. She set down the cup, then
leaned against the cabinet. "I feel like my entire life is so out of
control. I'm waiting to be tried for murder, my dead ex-husband is
calling me, and I'm having strange blackouts."
Luke got up and walked over to where she stood. He placed his palm
against her cheek. "And I have a feeling there's nothing you hate
worse than not being in control." As he had done before, he traced the
outline of her mouth with his index finger. "Sometimes letting go of
control is a good thing," he said softly.
She knew she should move away from him, but she couldn't. His touch
created a hungry fire inside her. He stepped closer, so close she
could almost hear the pounding of his heart over the increased thudding
of her own.
She knew she should move away because desire called to her, passion
beckoned her, and she knew if she didn't step away from him, she'd do
something crazy. And she knew by the look in his eyes that he wanted
her. He wanted to make love to her.
She wanted that. She wanted to fall into his arms and let him
obliterate everything else from her mind. She wanted to be able to
trust him not only with her body, but with her heart, her soul.
Something about Luke Black stirred her like no other man had in years.
She wanted to trust him, and she wanted him to make love to her.
Her gaze still locked with his, as his finger once again traced the
outline of her lips, she opened her mouth and drew his finger inside.
His eyes flared and she heard his swift intake of breath.
As she saw the fires in his eyes, felt the tension that radiated
through him, she knew they were about to cross a line that once crossed
would forever change the complexities of their relationship. She would
no longer just be his boss. He would no longer be one of her ranch
hands. They would be lovers.
Why not? It was possible that in six weeks' time she'd be convicted of
murder and put away in a prison for the rest of her life. Why not give
herself a moment of memories?
She released his finger and moved into him, his heat warming her
through her robe and nightgown. She splayed her hands against the
muscled plane of his chest and felt the taut tension that coiled
through him at her caress.
With a muttered curse he captured her lips with his and pulled her more
intimately against him, letting her know the extent of his arousal as
his hips pressed against hers.
The hunger of his kiss gave her no time to change her mind, drove any
lingering doubts out of her mind. Instead, a ravenous hunger grew in
her, the need not only for the physical act of making love, but also
for the connection of spirit with Luke.
She gasped as he untied her robe and pushed it aside. His mouth plied
hers with heat as his hands sought her breasts, caressing through the
thin cotton material of her nightgown.
His lips left hers, trailing down her jawline, lingering in the hollow
of her throat. She dropped her head back, allowing him better access
to the length of her neck as her fingers tangled in his thick hair. '
He moaned softly against the pulse in the base of her throat. With
apparent effort, he released his hold on her and stepped back.
"Abby?"
She knew he was giving her an opportunity to stop right now, allowing
her to make a rational decision. Her heart softened at his caring, but
she didn't need to rethink anything. She knew what she wanted. She
wanted him.
Without saying a word, she took his hand and led him out of the kitchen
and to her bedroom, where the bed was still mussed and appeared to be
awaiting them. She dropped his hand only long enough to shrug out of
her robe, then pull her nightgown over her head, leaving her clad only
in a pair of white cotton panties. She stretched out on the bed,
feeling anxious and excited, knowing by allowing Luke to make love to
her body, she gave him access to her heart.
As she watched, he took off his jeans. The sunlight streaming in the
windows painted his body in lush tones, emphasizing his utterly male
physique and turning Abby's bones to liquid fire. He joined her on the
bed, immediately ta
king her in his arms.
Lost in his embrace, bewitched by his kisses and sweet caresses, Abby
forgot all about everything else in her life. The worries about the
ranch fell away, as did her fears of her own sanity and the terror of
facing murder charges. She didn't think of the past, didn't worry
about the future, but lived only in the moment. and Luke.
Luke's caresses were slow, languid, as if they had all of eternity to
spend together. And how she wished they did. Abby had never felt so
alive, as if her senses were heightened to extreme levels. His clean,
masculine scent mingled with the sweet fresh air flowing in her window.
The calluses on his palms only added to the erotic pleasure as he
stroked them over her breasts.
His skin felt sleek and warm as they moved together in total abandon.
Abby's heart thundered with each kiss, every caress. By the time his
fingers slid down to encounter the barrier of her panties, she wanted
him more than she'd ever wanted anything in her life.
With his gaze locked with hers, he slowly, sensually, pulled her
panties off. When he touched her at the center of her being, tears of
pleasure blurred her vision. He shifted positions and hovered over her
for a moment, then slowly entered her.
As their bodies joined, she continued to look into his eyes. In their
dark depths, she saw not only passion, but caring, tenderness .
emotions that stirred her more deeply than any physical act could
accomplish alone.
He moved, stroking urgency and need within her. As each thrust went
deeper, became more powerful, she closed her eyes and gave herself
completely to him.
ENVELOPED BY HER silken warmth, Luke lost himself. He forgot his
reason for being here, lost track of his ultimate goal. All that
mattered was this moment with Abby, making love to her.
He hadn't intended to take his seduction this far, and yet had been
helpless to stop it once it had begun. He was aware that it had been
his deceptions that had gotten him here, and yet there was nothing
deceptive about his desire for her.
Her moans increased his urgency, feeding his hunger to staggering
proportions. Engulfed in her heat, he found control near impossible.
and yet he wanted the act to last forever.
Her moans increased in fervor as she met him thrust for thrust and as
he felt her passion reaching its zenith, he whirled upward to his own.
He whispered her name, wanting to look into her eyes as they went over
the edge together.
As he looked into the midnight blue depths of her eyes, he saw the same
wonder, the same awe he felt at their joining. He gasped, caught in a
spiraling maelstrom that made any other thoughts impossible.
SOMETIME LATER they remained locked in each other's embrace. Their
breathing slowed to a more normal rhythm, as did the pounding of their
hearts. Luke leaned up on his elbow and gazed down at her, noting her
sweet, swollen lips, the tousled hair and the flushed cheeks that were
mute testimony to what they'd just shared.
She smiled, a touch of shyness to her expression. "Is this what you
had in mind when you talked about letting go of control?"
He grinned. "You have to admit, there are merits to it." He traced a
finger down her jawline. "Tell me something, when you were young and
would sneak out of your house and dream while staring up at the moon,
what kind of dreams did you have?"
Her eyes widened slightly. "How did you know I used to sneak out of
the house at night?"
"You told me that last night. You wanted me to sit and dream with you
in the moonlight. Tell me what you used to dream of."
She laughed with an edge of embarrassment. "I don't know ... the same
kind of dreams and wishes all adolescent girls have."
"Having never been an adolescent girl, I don't have a frame of
reference, so you'll have to be more specific," he teased.
She moved away from him, her laughter gone as a more sobering
expression swept over her features. He could tell she was remembering
those nights so long ago, when she'd sneak out of the house while her
parents and sisters slept, to sit and dream in the moonlight. "I
dreamed about love, about finding a special someone who would love
me."
She smiled wistfully. "My sisters and I used to play pretend games
beneath the dragon tree. Each of us wanted a prince to marry, but I
never wanted one who might take me away from here. I wanted a prince
who would help me build this ranch into the successful kind of place my
dad always dreamed about." The smile fell away. "I thought I'd found
him in Greg, but I was sadly mistaken."
Greg's name thrust Luke back to reality. And reality brought
confusion. He thought of the tape-recorded message she'd played for
him. She was right, the voice had been Greg's. The shock of hearing
it had nearly undone Luke.
Not only had it shocked him, but it had also caused doubts to scurry
around in his head . doubts about Abby's guilt. Somebody appeared to
be playing games with her head. Why?
One thing was certain. Making love to Abby had been a mistake. He'd
been a fool to think he could play the role of spy, get close to her
and not get his emotions involved.
Now, with the scent of her still lingering on his skin, with the
honeyed taste of her still on his lips, his own deception tasted
bitter.
He realized he couldn't carry out his plan any longer. He couldn't
continue to deceive her about who he was and what he was really doing
here.
He looked at her again. She smiled, the heartfelt smile of a sated
woman. She looked beautiful with the sun shining on the golden strands
of her hair and painting her skin in warm hues. As he remembered the
velvet silkiness he'd experienced while loving her, he felt a stir deep
in his groin.
Ignoring the reawakening desire, he sat up and reached for his jeans.
He slid out of bed and stood. Somehow he felt it was better if he were
dressed when he told her who he really was.
"Luke?"
He zipped up his pants, then looked at her, saw the curious frown that
formed a wrinkle across her forehead. He raked a hand through his hair
and sat on the edge of the bed. "Abby. We need to talk."
"You aren't going to confess that you're married, are you?" she asked,
only half jesting.
"No, I'm not married." He stared at the wall, unable to look at her
with her hair mussed from their lovemaking and her cheeks flushed with
the residual color of pleasure.
"Luke?" She placed a hand on his arm and he heard the slight tremble
of fear in her voice.
With effort, he turned to her. "Abby, my name isn't really Luke Black.
It's Luke Foxwood. I'm Greg's half brother."
ABBY STARED AT HIM as if he'd spoken an unrecognizable language. He
couldn't have said what she thought he had. "What... what did you
say?"
"You heard me. I'm Greg's half brother."
The warmth and contentment that had flooded through her mere seconds
before turned ice cold. She stared at him in confusion. "I don't
understand. I didn't know Greg had any family. He never mentioned
you."
She kept her anger, her hurt, at bay, wanting answers before she
allowed her internal fury at his utter deception to overtake her. She
reached for her robe, not wanting to be naked, feeling vulnerable now
that she knew he'd lied to her about everything.
"Greg and I weren't very close." He got off the edge of the bed and
moved to the window. Staring out, he continued. "I was eight years
old when my dad left my mother and married Greg's mother. He was born
soon after. We grew up in separate homes in different parts of the
city. We didn't have a lot of contact until my father passed away.
Greg was sixteen and I was twenty-four. Both our mothers had died
before that and my father made me promise I'd take care of Greg."
He paused and drew a deep breath, his shoulders rigid with tension.
"Greg ran away soon after moving in with me and I didn't hear from him
again until about two months ago. He reappeared then and told me about
his marriage to you and that he had a son."
Abby's head reeled with warring emotions, but the most prevalent was a
feeling of betrayal, the hurt of finally trusting again and discovering
herself a fool.
"Let me guess, he told you I was easy and good in bed so you thought
Cassidy, Carla - Midnight Wishes Page 13
