The Ultimate Romantic Suspense Set (8 romantic suspense novels from 8 bestselling authors for 99c)

by Lee Taylor

  Zach holds me between his thighs and wraps his arms around me. His touch and warm breath cause tingles to circle my waist. I settle against his chest and let out a deep sigh at the romantic atmosphere. A light breeze ruffles my windbreaker, and I worry that Zach's tattered shirt is not enough to keep him warm.

  "Vera, the truth," Zach says. "Tell me what you want from me."

  A pressure builds behind my eyelids and swells my sinuses. He's so difficult. He's already claimed unrequited love from me. What more does he want me to admit?

  He holds the side of his face against mine. "If you can't tell me, sing 'Nandito Ako' for me, like you did on the porch. I looked up the lyrics. Promise me you'll always be here for me, as I'm here for you."

  It's like he's fishing for me to say I love him without putting his own heart on the line.

  "Sorry, Zach. All I can remember is catching you in bed with the redhead."

  His head jerks back and he scowls. "Maybe if you hadn't gone back to Cliff and ignored my calls I wouldn't have picked her up. I'm not your lapdog."

  "You haven't changed at all."

  His shoulders slump. "You're right. I expected too much, to be in love with a woman who'd be devoted to me. I thought you were the one."

  The way he says this is sad, and it drains the fight right out of me. "I wish I were. But I'm that little girl curled up in the corner of her room, scared someone will find her, but so lonely when no one cares to look."

  At least that's the picture Dr. Apodaca paints for me. I swallow a pang at how often I feel the tug at my heart.

  Zach stares into the distant surf, his knee jittering. "I'm that boy looking into a window, watching a mother reading to her son who's all warm and snuggly in his pajamas, wishing I belonged."

  I hang my head, not daring to look at him. "I want what you want." To belong to someone; to be needed, loved, cherished.

  When he doesn't respond, I'm afraid I've said too much. My throat tightens, and I don't move to brush away the tears forming in my eyes. A teardrop splashes onto the back of my hand, and Zach's sniffling.

  An ache swells in my chest in harmony with his feelings. Never, never, has Zach, Mr. Cool-and-Detached Triathlete, shown this much emotion. His pain is my pain, and at this moment I know him as I know myself.

  The weight of what my father did presses down harder. A vulnerable little boy lost his mother, and the man he became slammed his heart shut. The tighter he closed it, the lonelier he was. All the glamour and glitz of sports and racing, being the heir to a wine fortune and the most eligible bachelor couldn't make up for the emptiness.

  I kiss his cheek, his stubble scratching my lips. He wipes his eyes roughly and grits his jaw, probably embarrassed. When I keep kissing him, light pecks up and down his face, he suddenly presses his mouth against mine and burns me with a deep, luscious, needing kiss.

  I gasp for breath and pull away, but he nips my lower lip and sucks it, then turns my head and latches onto my open mouth, drinking me in big, desperate gulps.

  Heat flashes through my chest and swirls through my abdomen. His scent, spicy and smoky, lights a raging fire between my legs. Every nerve on my body aches that sweet, languorous ache, the primitive, gut-level need of a woman for her man. Mine, because everything he does shows me he loves me; and everything I am belongs only to him.

  We roll on the soft sand and I'm on top of him when we come up for air. The moon reflects in his deep blue eyes, and we're both breathing hard. This. Time. Is. Different. Not lust, but more--much, much more.

  His expression is so intense it burns me, piercing through my heart. He's just as afraid as I am. I have to show him how precious he is, how willing I am to risk everything for him.

  "Zach." I press my hands on his firm chest. "I am devoted to you. I want to be the one."

  "You already are."

  "Then let me show you." I straddle him, our jeans rubbing together.

  His length is evident, strong and hard, and he moans when I move over it. Slowly I peel his shirt off, nipping his neck and licking the salt from his skin. He unzips my windbreaker and flips it back, then slips a finger under the cup of my bra.

  My nipples tighten in bated anticipation. His other hand unhooks the bra while he lifts his head and mouths me through the cloth. I yank the bra off and shove my breast onto his warm, wet tongue. His lips close deliciously around the tip of my swollen nipple, and I'm loving the mixture of pain and throbbing excitement his licking and nibbling sends between my legs. He's still wearing my camisole tied around his head, so I remove it and run my fingers through his hair, silently urging him to roughen me up and have no excuse to stop.

  Our jeans are stiff from the salt water and constricting the action below. I shift my weight, and he hums his approval when I unzip myself then attack his waistband, finding the tip of his cock straining to escape. The urge to kiss him there overtakes me. I shimmy his jeans to his knees and trail my lips down the line between his abdominals to take him into my mouth.

  He doesn't stop me, and I'm childish enough to giggle when he fists my hair and trembles, his breathing ragged and begging for more. He tastes so good, briny and sexy.

  "I'm not going to last much longer." He's struggling, trying to pull back, but seemingly unable to rally the will power. I'm getting a real rush from this, having him so helpless, so in my control. I slow my assault, wanting to prolong the pleasure, to show him my true feelings in a way I can't bear to admit.

  He groans and lifts me up, pulling down my panties and jeans. I kick them aside and he yanks me onto him, impaling me with the pure agony of long-awaited bliss.

  A howl rips from my throat as my insides stretch to accommodate him. "Zach, oh, it feels so good."

  "This is where I belong." His eyes radiate such love I'm temporarily unable to move.

  The incredible feeling of connection, of him buried inside as part of me, makes me tremble uncontrollably. I begin a smooth rocking motion, our eyes locked on each other in a trancelike state of delicious desire.

  Each slide moves me up and down the thrilling ramp of sensation. He presses into me, opening me completely and teases the pleasure spot inside me. The push and pull of his strokes bring me to that excruciating edge where it's almost impossible to stay.

  "Zach, please, harder." I scoot until I'm almost off and slam back onto him, my thighs on fire from the exertion.

  "You like it, rough? You like me fucking you?"

  "Yes, yes, don't stop." I claw desperately at his shoulders, riding his length. My legs tense as the pressure swells, growing in intensity.

  He sits up and cups my breasts while his lips latch onto mine, his tongue moving in rhythm to the pumping action of his hips.

  My whimpers crescendo as my swollen core claims him, clenching and pulsing around his enormous shaft. Fire erupts and races through me, and I'm unable to catch my breath when I shatter into a million glittering stars, rushing from between my legs to the top of my head and back down to the tips of my curling toes.

  "I'm. Not. Fucking. You. Vera. I'm. Loving. You!" He flips me onto my back and covers me, taking possession. Thrusting like a piston, he brings me to the brink again, then spasms his release as I writhe and clench underneath him with another mind-blowing orgasm.

  His eyes roll back and he lets out a deep, satisfying groan, then he rolls to his side and envelops me with his arms and legs.

  It takes a while for both of our breathing to settle down. Zach cuddles me tenderly and caresses my hair, then lifts my face to look at him. The moonlight bathes him with an eerie white sheen, and his eyes are dark blue.

  "How does it feel?" he asks. "To make love with your heart open?"

  How did it feel? Deeper, more fulfilling, my heart orbiting toward forever, wanting what's out of reach? The answer is any and all of these. I lie still on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, and run my palms from his shoulders to his narrow hips. "Like I never want it to end."

  "And it won't, baby. You gave me my wish." Zach'
s whisper is warm in my ear. "To make love to you with more than my body, but with all my heart."

  A frisson of delight dances over my skin. Zach put a stop to our meaningless sex because he wanted it with love.

  I kiss him softly, my emotions like an overflowing cup of rich, creamy chocolate. "Mahal kita. I do so love you."

  His fingers lazily stroke my face down to my neck, then traces around my breasts. "The truth is, I love you, Vera, mine. If I die now, I'll be satisfied."

  "No, never die." A lifetime is not enough. It passes too quickly. I hesitate only a second, and then I'm kissing him, dreading tomorrow and wanting him so badly it aches.

  Chapter 26

  I'm draped across Zach, languid, more than satisfied. We've moved off the beach and are on the tarp over the grass, covered by my windbreaker. The moon is high in the ink dark sky and the breeze has settled down into lazy puffs.

  Zach's breathing is deep and steady. One of his arms holds me while the other cradles his head. His slow heartbeat rumbles beneath my ear, and the scent of Zach, salty and smoky, wraps me in a dreamlike state between wanting and satiated.

  How can I still be aroused after the multiple tumbles in the sand? I must be hoarse from calling out his name. There's no going back now. We've both admitted what we wanted, exposed our inner desires, made ourselves vulnerable.

  I tease the springy hair across his chest and run my hand down his waist, careful not to wake him. Being held like this, after making love, and sleeping, actually spending the night and waking up next to the man I'm in love with is more than I deserve.

  The lulling surf shifts lazily behind us in that quiet, suspended time before dawn. My eyelids are heavy with bliss and I sigh, content. If this incredible delirious feeling is love, I now understand why people would move mountains and sacrifice everything for just one more moment. Always one more, never enough.

  I'm shaken by a hoarse grunt and shudder. Zach's chest heaves, and he jackknifes, throwing me to the side. He grabs at his leg.

  "Zach, what is it?" I help him sit, and he wraps his hands around his stump.

  His breath sizzles between his teeth, and he rocks back and forth, batting at his pant leg. "Huh . . . huh . . . It feels like I'm on fire."

  "Let me look at it." I press him down but he rolls onto his side and clutches himself in a fetal position.

  "Phantom pain." He grits his teeth. "I don't have my compression sock. My leg's probably swollen."

  His jeans are hard to peel off while he's twisting from side to side. I manage to lower them enough to examine the area around his scar. It's hot and definitely swollen. The fire has died, so I can't check for abrasions, and I don't want to probe him with my dirty finger in case there's skin breakdown. "Where's my camisole?"

  "I . . . you took it off on the beach." Zach's words are ragged and hoarse.

  "I'll get it."

  "No, it's dark. There might be snakes."

  Cold chills grip my spine. I hate snakes, especially the poisonous kind. I cringe at the thought, but I feel around for Zach's walking stick and prop myself up. "I'll beat the ground and warn them off, don't worry."

  "Vera, be careful." He acts as if I'm going on a dangerous trek. "If you're not back soon I'll come looking for you, even if I have to crawl on my hands and knees."

  I give him a light kiss on the lips and head down the trail toward the beach, tapping the stick ahead of me, my ears perked for hissing and slithering. Unlike the rattlesnake, Zach says the black tiger snake is silent and can strike without warning.

  The bush is alive with tiny chirps and the rustling of either insects or rats. A bleating sound greets me as I step onto the damp sand. Two goats are tugging my camisole between them. They alternately butt their heads, skip around and yank at the white cloth.

  "Hey, that's mine." I rush them, waving the stick.

  One goat scurries off, but the other one holds his ground and chews on the cami.

  "Git, git!" I prod him with the stick but he lowers his head and charges me. "Whoa!"

  I almost turn tail and run, but remember what Zach said about the geese and not backing down. Holding the stick crosswise in front of me, I block the goat's horns and grab at the cloth. He tugs back, so I whack him across his thick skull--not hard, though, because I don't want to hurt him.

  Stunned, he lets go of the camisole and trots off to find his mate. I trudge back up the path toward the shack, breathing hard from my fight, but strangely proud of myself for winning.

  When I return to camp, Zach is sitting on the cot. He greets me with a stiff smile, obviously trying not to show his pain. I can see the swelling of his residual limb. Fortunately, there are no visible abrasions. He stays completely still as I wrap it as tightly as I can without cutting off circulation, but sweat pops from his brow and his face is pink in the light of the rising sun.

  I cradle his head and wipe it, kissing him. "We need to get help."

  "It's phantom pain, it'll go away. Sorry I woke you. It felt like someone was twisting my toes with a pair of pliers, crushing my foot and burning it at the same time."

  "I don't think it's phantom. Your leg's swollen, probably from all that hiking we did yesterday."

  "It'll be okay." He grimaces as he wiggles into the pants and puts on his shoe. "Thank you. You're a lifesaver. I wish we could have had a proper good morning, cuddling and kissing, instead of me throwing you onto the ground."

  "It's okay, I fought a goat for my camisole." I laugh and rub his beard stubble. "Think we can catch one for dinner?"

  "Or maybe one of the geese. They don't seem scared of us." He finds the knife he took from me and threads the sheath onto his belt. "Let's check out the bay side and see if anybody arrived overnight."

  Even though he sounds chipper, I know it's part of his machismo. Instead of reminding him about his pain, I wrap him in a bear hug. "How about a backrub first? If someone arrives this morning, we'll meet them soon enough. Don't they automatically come to the shack?"

  "Yes, it's the only shelter here." He kisses me with a loud smack. "I owe you for nursing me."

  "I owe you for trekking all over the island looking for my brothers." I push him on to his stomach and straddle him, riding on his butt. He moans softly as I knead the knots from his tense muscles. I'm worried about my brothers, but there's no sign of them. Maybe they were captured to keep them from rescuing me, and I was the main target, the one someone wanted to be rid of.

  "That feels so good." Zach raises himself onto his elbows.

  I turn his face and kiss him on the cheek. I can tell by his relaxed expression that the pain has receded, but I keep rubbing his neck and shoulders while he moans appreciatively.

  "This is so much better." He rolls onto his side and swoops me into his arms, cuddling me. "Good morning, Miss Custodio."

  I wonder why he's so formal, but his lips brush over mine and he mumbles, "Although I'm hoping you'll change it soon."

  My fingers tingle and jitters jump inside my chest, quickening my breath. Is he playing around again? Flirting? Or suggesting something more serious? I'm not sure I'm ready to think that far, although waking up every morning with Zach would be paradise.

  After succumbing to our passion once again, we straighten up the campsite and put the cot and tarp back into the shed. Zach fills a plastic water jug and hands it to me to carry. I wish he didn't look so apologetic, but he needs both his hands to prop himself between me and the walking stick.

  We spend the day poking from one side of the island to the other without finding anyone. Tired and hungry, I gather a pile of dried wood on the beach. I'm worried about Zach's leg, but he seems upbeat and keeps reminding me how he camped here ten years ago.

  Neither Zach nor I are quick enough to catch any goats or geese, no matter how closely they challenge us. Besides, I can't stand the thought of slaughtering one, so with our stomachs empty, we set up the fishhooks again. At sundown, we catch two nice sized fish with the rotten shark scraps as bait. Zach says they
're kingfish. He filets them, cutting off the bloodline and skin, then grills them over the fire. It has a strong, but not unpleasant taste. After dinner, we spend hours staring into the horizon for boats.

  A chill settles over the island, and I rub my hands to warm them. "Should we throw more wood on the fire and signal for help?"

  Zach scans the open sea. "It's getting dark. We should save it, in case we're stuck here longer."

  "It's okay, I'll fetch some more branches and keep it going."

  I take off toward the dead trees. I never dreamed when I went to Disney's Robinson Crusoe adventure that I'd one day have a real one. But then, with hunkalicious Zach at my side, what's a girl going to complain about? Warmth invades my thighs and belly when I recall the benefits of having him around. I pick my way back to the shed and find Zach untangling the fishing lines.

  "How's the leg feeling?" I press him onto the camp cot. "You're sleeping with it elevated tonight."

  "The wrapping you did is helping. Let's take it off and go for a swim." He flashes me a sidelong Zach Attack grin.

  I fan myself, knowing what he's suggesting. "We have to keep our clothes dry."

  "I know, so take them off." He licks his lips and feathers his fingers through my hair. "The tide is out, and there's a cove just beyond the hollow cliffs. It's perfect for a moonlight dip."

  "Are you sure? Is your leg okay?"

  His body tenses and he purses his lips. "We got around the island fine, searched every nook and cranny. Besides, when I swim I feel free, like I'm not missing a part of me."

  "I'm sorry. Swimming's great." I try to sound cheerful. "But I'm still worried about my brothers."

  He rubs the back of my neck. "Me too. I hope they're okay. What I don't get is why no one has come back for me if my father did this. He can be tough and would maybe leave me overnight, but he knows about my condition."

  "Maybe Vic and Tom didn't tell him you're here."

  Zach rolls his neck as if he were pouring water out of both ears. "I don't know what's going on. I'm sorry you got involved." He looks up. "Hey, what are you doing?"