Cassidy, Carla - Midnight Wishes

by Midnight Wishes(lit)

  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