“Dominic…I’m okay…I’m sorry I didn’t call…I’m outside with…” she stopped as he stormed out of the elevator, his phone against his ear as he stalked her car. She swallowed and offered a smile, turning the car off and dropping the keys into her pocket before sliding out on the concrete. She was positive the only thing saving her was the bruise on her ribs.
“You don’t have a hands free device in your car?” He demanded, loading his arms and moving things to the elevator. She shook her head and carried her carpet bag, locking up the car when it was empty. “Friday errands, first on the list,” he told her firmly.
“Yes, sir,” she said immediately, giggling at his scowl.
“Hold onto that attitude,” he suggested, looking at the bags he was hauling into the condo. “Faith, we have food.”
“We have food you like. Now I added food I like,” she told him simply, carrying the boxes to rest on the counter in the large kitchen.
“You might like my food.”
“And you might like my food,” she returned sweetly, the low wolf growl telling her she was making sense to him.
“Can you cook?” He asked warily after taking the refilled carpet bag to the closet and leaving it for her.
“I can cook,” she answered, rearranging things and setting out the spit roasted chicken and large salad she’d picked up for dinner. “I usually cook on weekends.”
“Huh,” he said, opening the chicken and going in search of utensils and plates. He watched her drizzle a red vinegar over the salad and toss some small tomatoes to the top before sliding the large bowl to the center of the counter.
“I talked to Cassidy today,” Faith said after things were organized in the bedroom and she’d changed into her nightgown while he was working at his desk. “She hasn’t found out anything.”
“The hotels are still pending sale,” Dominic looked over at her, and she nodded, moving to stand behind him, her hands on his shoulders.
“I’ve never been good at being…” She began, pacing slowly.
“Patient?”
“Captive,” she returned, leaning down and kissing his neck, drawing her tongue along his throat to his ear. She nipped sharply and felt warmth flowing when he inhaled sharply.
“Faith, I have some reading to do…” Dominic made the effort at speech even as his body was telling him he would lose the battle.
“Don’t mind me,” she murmured, letting her tongue trace a line around his ear and back to his throat. She let her arms circled his neck, her fingers opening the buttons she could reach on his shirt.
“I’ve…arranged to have your things moved tomorrow,” he figured he’d better let her know while his higher functions were still engaged. He felt her open the knot of his tie and slide it free from his throat.
“Hmmm…this shows possibilities…” she murmured, carefully turning him from the desk when she heard his glasses set on the solid surface. “But…I suppose if you’re not interested…” A sharp squeal broke with laughter when she was swept up and tossed over his shoulder with a growl. “Is this really necessary?”
“When dealing with you…I’m starting to think it’s the best way,” Dominic growled again, striding down the hall and dropping her to the surface of the bed.
Faith leaned up on her elbows, enjoying the view as he striped off his shirt. Her gaze moved appreciably from the muscles of his stomach to his chest and onto the dark eyes filled with desire as he stalked seductively over the bed, pressing her back and taking her mouth with the hunger inside them both. She gave herself over to the passion, her fingers locked against his head for the wild kisses.
Chapter Eighteen
Dominic poured coffee shortly after six in the morning, his tie hanging free beneath the collar of his shirt. He’d actually been more productive after they’d spent an hour in bed. He never wanted the soft laughter or sounds of her pleasure to vanish from his thoughts. He’d actually never known a woman so delightfully open and sensual before. Not like Faith. There was a swell of something powerful, but unknown that swept through him when she made her needs known in the middle of the night.
He watched her coming down the hall, pretty mouth pulled into a taut frown as she wrestled with something inside her purse.
She wore flats this morning, jeans that were rolled to mid calf and a low, scooped fronted tunic that stopped just past her hips. She had a bulky looking sweater slung over one arm when her hand finally surfaced with the prize she had been after. He watched her attach a silver chain around her throat, a smoky crystal of some kind with a large oval opal mounted in the center. His gaze moved higher, taking in the sparkling gems twinkling brightly in each ear.
Faith didn’t wait for an invitation, but stepped up to him and kissed him, her hands absently working his tie into a nice knot for him.
“I didn’t ask…how did all the interviews go?” She dug into the fridge and surfaced with a cup of yogurt.
“Found my money admin. Previously employed with a credit card company,” Dominic told her, buttering some toasted English muffins and offering her one before drowning them both in blackberry jam. “She starts on Monday.”
Faith stared at him, her head shaking and sigh long.
“I dribbled something?” He asked with a frown, glancing down at his shirt.
“Oh…no…I’m just…a part of me keeps waiting to wake up,” she told him honestly, licking the spoon and dropping the container into the sink to wash out.
“Feels a little like a dream?” Dominic couldn’t deny that feeling. When she responded to his touch in the middle of the night, he was almost convinced it was a marvelous dream.
“Yeah…” Faith stepped up to him, her hands flat on his chest. “But I don’t want to wake up, Dominic.” She laid her head down and sighed happily.
They crossed the employee parking lot together, the bright early morning sunshine breaking up the fog that had swept in over night. Faith entered the computer section and began working, her intentions to take the afternoon off to do a little shopping.
Dominic stared at the empty computer station in disbelief. He was willing to believe she was too swamped with work to check her phone. He was even willing to believe she’d forgotten her phone altogether, remembering the way she had upended the small purse she wore around her shoulder.
He turned and stormed out of the computer area, his phone out and taping her number again. Then he tried Charity.
“I’m sorry, Dominic…I haven’t heard from her today,” Charity closed her eyes, trying to remember if there was something in one of their talks she had missed. “She didn’t say…I’m sure she’s fine. Let me try giving her a call, and I’ll ring you right back if I get through.” But there was no answer. “Sorry, Dominic. She’s not picking up.”
“There’s a crazy person out there stalking redheads, and she’s off doing god knows what,” he growled. “I’ll find her, thanks, Charity.”
They were supposed to meet for dinner in the resort before going to watch the review. He was pacing the front entrance to the resort when he saw the ends of the bulky sweater she’d worn that morning, long hair flying free. Only she was no longer a redhead. Early evening February sun sparkled off the pale golden honey shade when she came to a brightly smiling stop in front of him, going to her toes and kissing him warmly before speaking.
“Sorry I’m late! It took a little longer on the hair than usual,” Faith waved a palm in front of his eyes. “Dominic?”
“Where’s your phone, Faith?” He pushed the words through very slowly, even as he forced the release of all the anxiety he’d been chewing on since one that afternoon.
“My phone? Oh, god…you’ve been trying…you were worried…” Faith opened her bag, frantically shaking it and frowning. “I don’t know. I had it…I swear and it is turned on and you are not on ignore…maybe it fell out in the car…” She turned to go, only to find her fingers gripped tightly. She found herself pulled into a tight, snug pair of arms that refused to bu
dge for several minutes. Which wasn’t a bad place to be at all, she thought with a sigh, arms wrapped around his waist and head on his chest, listening to his heart beat. “I’m sorry, Dominic…”
“You’re okay,” he said simply, his lips near her ear, the long free hair tickling his hands and face. He raised his head slowly, peering down at the free waving long hair. Dominic brought a palm up, too aware of the slight shake to it as he let his fingers spear the length at the side of her face, the lights outside the casino sparkling off the strands. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with only one color,” he teased, deciding he was relaxed if he could laugh at the wrinkled nose she offered up.
“Gentlemen don’t mention a lady’s hair color,” she informed him haughtily. “Even if there’s been a mistake a couple times. I’ve learned to give the job to professionals,” she admitted, walking with him into the restaurant.
“That’s why you weren’t at work this afternoon,” he said, more to himself than her, accepting the menu he was offered and seeing her nod. “It’s nice, Faith…very nice.” He meant what he said, even if a small part of him still didn’t know what her natural color was. He was sure it was a guy thing he’d just have to come and accept.
Chapter Nineteen
The Thursday night run started off fairly normal. Hope Williams wore a black lycra with bright yellow stripes at her knees and arms. Soft leather gloves kept her hands warm and a slim cotton band kept her hair from her face and her ears warm. She loved running through the old part of Defiance Point, the ancestral houses built at the turn of the century taking up huge plots of land with tall wrought iron fencing and old world trees.
She’d come to fashion her own little gothic stories around each of the sprawling homes. Her favorite was the werewolf pack moving into the neighborhood.
The first sign something was off was when she found the large sliding gates wide open. The driveway wasn’t a long one compared to others along the winding roads above the southern Sound. The second sign that had her frowning was the car parked near the back door. There was only one vehicle she’d ever seen there and it was always beneath the wide carport. The house was dark, not a light showing.
A low groan broke from inside her when her sneaker feet swerved to go up the short drive toward the house.
“This is the part where you scream to the TV,” she said softly to herself. “The part where you tell the girl don’t go in the house!”
She kept to the shadows, moving around the side of the house where the unknown car was parked. Another groan broke free.
“You don’t leave a car running…without a really good reason,” she told herself, cursing the lack of pockets in spandex. “Or a really bad reason,” she amended, leather clad slim fingers touching the shredded wood at the side entrance.
She flattened herself against the door as she stepped inside, moving very slowly to let her vision adjust as she found her way. She heard the angry voices and then the loud crash that sent a shudder through her, her almost black body plastered against the wall when another darkly clad man started up the wide, curving staircase. She went the other direction, into the kitchen again and up the back staircase. Something inside her said there was a valuable item upstairs the man was after.
A deep instinct told her it wasn’t an inanimate object. She’d glimpsed a pale blond head on the floor of the room the man had left. She didn’t think she had time to check on him, not if her hunch was right. She wasn’t sure if she watched too much police dramas or too much sci-fi channel. The hall was wide in the old house, the doors to the rooms open and looked to be in the middle of a renovation. All of them were empty. But one.
She had to smile. Kids never slept the way the bed went. This one was very small and curled against the upper corner of the twin bed. Judging by the décor of the room, it was a little girl. Using the quilt on the bed, she quickly bundled the sleeping little girl inside, holding her tightly against her and slipping back out of the room and into the hall. Children were amazingly rubbery and the little girl soon formed herself to the new warmth holding her close.
The man was noisy and must have known he was the only other person conscious in the house except for the child. So it was a kidnapping, she thought, easily moving back to the kitchen and staring around. She heard the little mews from the bundle in her arms and smiled down into a cherub face topped with unruly blond curls and wide brown eyes.
“Hi…what’s your name?” She asked softly, continuing her gaze around the very large, newly installed kitchen appliances and counters.
“Mina…who’re you?”
“My name is Hope,” she answered with a smile. “And we’re going to play a little game of hide and seek…do you like games?” She laughed softly at the nod and grin on the still drowsy looking face.
“Where’s daddy?”
“I’m going to find him…but first I have to hide you, okay?” Hope lifted a heavy stainless steel panel shielding one of the shelf units in the pantry. “I need you to be very, very quiet, alright? And don’t talk unless it’s me or daddy? Do you understand?”
Mina nodded and curled onto the shelf the woman set her into, laying her head down on the blanket with a big yawn.
“I’ll be real quiet, I promise,” she whispered sleepily.
Hope crossed her fingers after they brushed some stray curls from the little girl’s forehead. If Hope was lucky, she’d fall back to sleep. She looked around the kitchen, one palm rubbing her neck before letting her fingers close around the handle of the heavy frying pan, testing the weight. She inhaled deeply.
It always worked in the cartoons, she thought.
She crept up the back staircase, keeping herself close to the wall and listening. The man was obviously really angry that he couldn’t find what he was after, loud cursing and slamming doors. He stood facing the stairs, his hand on a phone at his ear. He seemed to be waiting, looking up in surprise at the same time she swung the pan with all her might.
Hope wasn’t sure what kind of outcome she expected. But this was definitely not it. The pan fell from her hands at the same time the man rolled over and over down the wide, curving staircase, landing at the bottom with a stomach lurching snap that sent her eyes wide and head shaking in denial.
Rubbing the back of his head, Devon Alexander had stepped into the foyer at the same time he saw the woman dressed in running clothes swing the heavy frying pan. He watched the man crash down, ignoring him when he heard the crunch.
Alert eyes swept back to the top of the stairs, his feet taking them two at a time when he saw a glimpse of what was to come. Dark eyes peered at him, slivers of white beginning to show when he gripped her shoulders with a strong shake. She was wearing gloves, he thought, good.
“No! No…don’t blink out on me now…” He lifted her by her shoulders, a slender, slim very female figure. He held her on her toes with a firm shake. “Stay with me…What’s your name?”
“Hope…” she brought her tongue out. “Hope Williams…”
“Listen to me…don’t faint on me…I need you awake…where’s my daughter? Where’s Mina?”
“The kitchen…I put her there…she’s safe…hiding…” her head bobbed, deep brown gypsy layers fluttering around her face. “Oh my god…he’s…I…” Lashes fluttered again, her breathing coming too fast.
“No!” He shook her again. “You didn’t,” he said firmly, holding her on the edge of pain to make her stay with him. “Listen to me…your name is Hope Alexander. Got it? And you didn’t do anything…I did it…Can you stand?”
“Yes…yes…but…”
“Go bring Mina up here and go into that bedroom,” he nodded behind her, his hand pulling a phone from the pocket of his slacks. “Go bring her up here, Hope. Trust me,” he watched her nod and take off at a light run to the kitchen. He picked up the pan, holding it firmly to plant his fingerprints on the handle before he placed the call to the police, snapping his phone closed as she reappeared, the little bundle in her arms,
asleep. “Thank god…” he brushed his fingers over her forehead.
“Why…” Hope frowned at the hand on her elbow, guiding her into the very large master bedroom.
Devon pulled a large tee shirt from a drawer and tossed it to her. He took Mina from her and laid her in the middle of the big bed.
“I don’t have time to explain now. You and Mina were asleep. I was working downstairs. You screamed, I came up the back stairs and hit the guy with the pan, got it? Get out of those clothes and put that on,” He moved quickly to the door, growling at the pounding and sirens outside. “I’ll deal with this…remember what I told you,” he said firmly, accepting her nod before going to answer the door.
Hope stared after him. She just killed a man, she whimpered, quickly changing out of her running clothes, laying them on a cushioned chair before dropping the tee shirt over her head.
Swell. Airborne was blazoned across her chest, her hands tugging at the hem. She slid over the surface of the bed, arranging blankets over the little girl and her own bare toes.
She felt her stomach clench.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Alexander, we need to speak to your wife,” said the firm voice coming up the stairs.
Hope knew she was shaking, hands wrapped tightly around the edge of the blanket when the door was pushed wide, the light brought up to a low level. Two officers stepped inside the large room.
“I’m sorry. Mrs. Alexander. I understand you’re shaken by this…but we need to talk to you about the break in,” the officer said gently, making notes as he asked questions. He accepted her nod, noting the husband moving to sit at her side, his arm reassuringly around her shoulders. “Can you tell me what happened?”
WindSwept Narrows: #13 Charity, Faith & Hope Page 14
