“You were just a child,” she murmured, wanting to reach out to him, to ease his pain. But she couldn’t find the strength, or the courage to take that step. “How can you be so sure?”
“Because he brought me with him every time he paid a visit. He made sure he was never alone with your mother. My father told me that Prudence Island was a small community. He didn’t want there to be any talk, any reason to shame my mother. I tried to tell that to the lawyers, but they wouldn’t believe me.”
Jessie’s heart caught in her throat at the image his words conjured. In her mind’s eye she saw Samuel as a young boy, trying desperately to plead his case, trying to get someone—anyone—to listen to him.
Now he shook his head, staring out onto the ocean. “They accused me of lying to protect my father.”
Unable to stop herself, Jessie reached out to him once more. Tentatively she placed a hand on his arm and felt the tension thrumming through his body.
This time he didn’t push her away. Instead he turned to look at her. His eyes were glazed with pain and something more…resignation.
“You shouldn’t have come back, Jessie,” he said, his voice so quiet she could barely hear him. He covered her hand with his, gripping it firmly. She couldn’t have pulled away, even if she’d wanted to. Once again he said, “You shouldn’t have come back. Why didn’t you stay in Atlanta where it was safe?”
Jessie’s heart slammed against her chest. Not with fear, but with anticipation. She couldn’t move, couldn’t think. She stood frozen to the spot, waiting for his next move.
She didn’t have long to wait. One hand still gripping hers, his other found her waist. In a quick, fluid motion, with a growl of frustration low in his throat, he drew her snug against his hard body. Then, without warning, he lowered his mouth and kissed her.
Chapter 6
Before he had time to reconsider the wisdom of his actions, Samuel pulled Jessie into his arms, his lips hungrily seeking hers. He had never felt like this before. He’d never wanted, never needed a woman as much as he did her.
Her lips were warm, moist. They trembled beneath his. He heard the sharp inhalation of her breath, and a reckless thrill coursed through his veins, making him feel as though he’d just stepped out into the deep end of the ocean. Anchoring both hands at her waist, he pulled her close, needing the soft reassurance of her body against his.
For a breath-stealing moment she stiffened in his arms.
His heart thudded as he waited for her to push him away.
But she didn’t. Instead, she dug her fingers into the knit fabric of his polo shirt, gripping it tightly.
Taking this as an assent, he deepened the kiss, slowly increasing the pressure of his lips against hers. With a quiet moan, her mouth opened to him. And a firestorm of desire ignited deep inside him, heating his blood, robbing him of all reason. He delved his tongue into her mouth, struggling with a need for urgency, tasting a sweetness he’d only imagined in his dreams.
With a sigh Jessie seemed to give up any pretense of fight. Her muscles went limp. She wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him, pressing her slender body to his. Her velvety smooth skin felt hot to the touch; her breasts full and heavy against his chest. Her belly nudged his manhood.
Samuel groaned. Irrational though it may be, he wanted her. He wanted to forget about the past, forget about the future and lose himself in the pleasure of her embrace. But in his heart he knew it wasn’t possible. No matter how pliant or how willing she might be now, neither of them could hide from the real world forever.
He had no doubt there would come a time for regrets.
Reluctantly he ended the kiss. Needing a moment to recover, he buried his face against the curving slope of her throat, brushing his lips against the side of her neck. Breathing deeply, he inhaled the delicate fragrance of her skin, catching the scent of jasmine.
Jessie shivered in his arms. With a choppy breath she raked her fingers through his hair and pulled his face up to hers.
He looked into her eyes and saw the reflection of his own desire. Growling with resignation, he took her mouth once again. This time he allowed himself all the urgency he felt in his body and his soul.
Jessie met his demands with a lusty need of her own, matching each thrust of his tongue, letting her fingers slide down the length of his spine, resting her hands on his hips and drawing him close.
Just as he was about to lose himself in the softness of her body, the sweetness of her lips, the tenderness of her touch, an unwanted image from the past flickered in his mind. An image so vivid, so acute, it pained him to remember.
The image of his father kissing Eve Pierce.
Samuel froze at the memory. He hadn’t been completely honest with Jessie. He hadn’t told her of the time he’d walked into the storage shed in the back of Gull’s Cottage and found his father kissing her mother. Only ten years old, he’d been shocked and confused by what he’d seen. He’d run, run all the way to the docks and had hidden. His father had found him eventually. He’d told Samuel he couldn’t help himself. That he’d made a mistake. He had promised him that it would never happen again.
At the time Samuel didn’t believe him. He didn’t understand why a man as big and powerful as his father couldn’t resist a woman as small and fragile as Mrs. Pierce. How could her will be stronger than his?
But now he understood.
Samuel knew how weak Jessie made him feel. When he was in her arms, his muscles trembled with the strain of self-control. His knees threatened to buckle beneath him. He felt as though his willpower had melted in a heat of passion as quick and strong as any brushfire.
He was repeating the sins of his father.
“No,” he rasped, tearing his lips from hers. Before he could change his mind, he stepped back, pushing her away. Without the comforting heat of her body next to his, the cool night air swept his passion-heated skin, chilling him.
Jessie stared up at him, blinking in confusion. She swayed and placed a hand on the railing to steady herself. Her dark hair was disheveled, her lips red and swollen. She had the look of a woman who’d been thoroughly kissed.
A woman he still wanted to kiss.
“This isn’t what I came for,” he said, the words sounding harsher than he’d meant.
She moved toward him. “Samuel, I—”
“No,” he said, backstepping, putting a much-needed distance between them. “This…this has to stop, now, before it goes any further.”
Jessie’s dark brow furrowed with uncertainty. “I…I don’t understand. You don’t think I planned for any of this to happen, do you?”
He felt winded, his breathing strained. He raked a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what to think,” he admitted.
“Samuel, please,” she said, stepping forward, reaching out to him.
He shrugged off her embrace, not giving himself the chance to be lost in her touch.
Jessie flinched as though she’d been slapped by his rebuff. Looking numb, she let her hand fall heavily to her side. Her voice sounded brittle as she said, “No matter what just happened between us, Samuel, I still need your help.”
He shook his head slowly. “I’m no hero, Jessie. I can’t help you…I can’t even help myself. I want no part of this obsession of yours with your mother’s death.” His voice echoed in the quiet night. He hardened his heart against the pain and confusion he saw in her eyes. He couldn’t allow his emotions to stand in the way of doing what was right, of protecting her. “Rooting up the past will cause both of us unnecessary pain and trouble. There’s nothing you can do to change my mind, not even using your powers of seduction.”
With that final, cutting remark, he sealed his own fate. Knowing she would never be able to forgive him for such callousness, he turned and left.
For a long moment Jessie stared after him, watching as he strode off the porch and rounded the house to the front driveway. As he disappeared around the corner, she drew in a sharp, painful breath. It h
urt so badly, she felt as though a dagger had lodged in her heart.
She didn’t understand what had just happened. One minute Samuel was a tender, gentle lover, holding her in his arms, evoking in her such an intense reaction. The next minute he was cold and angry, pushing her away, making her feel as though she were to blame for everything that had happened between them. As though she were some sort of Mata Hari, bending his will to suit her own.
What had she done to cause him to think so little of her?
Her eyes filled with unwanted tears. She stumbled to the table, sitting down hard in a chair. Staring down at their unfinished dinner, she struggled to understand why the evening had ended so badly.
When she’d talked about her childhood in Atlanta, he’d listened with what seemed like genuine interest. She truly believed he had cared. In turn, he had trusted her enough to reveal the painful secrets of his own past, of his mother’s suicide, of his father’s death in prison. A tear spilled down her cheek. Compared to Samuel she had lived a fairy-tale life, virtually devoid of trauma.
Before he’d kissed her, she could have sworn they’d grown closer, that a connection had been formed between them. She’d felt the change in her heart. They had broken through the initial defenses of mistrust and had carved out a new, albeit tentative, relationship. For the first time she had felt as though she’d finally found someone who understood her. Someone who’d shared the bond of a troubled childhood.
Another tear escaped, then another. Jessie swiped impatiently at her damp cheek. How could everything have gone so wrong so quickly?
But she already knew the answer. She’d allowed her heart to rule her judgment. She’d allowed a physical need to overshadow her quest for the truth behind her past. She’d mistaken Samuel’s compassion for something more than he’d intended.
Because of her own lack of control, she’d turned the one person she needed most against her.
On trembling legs Jessie stood. The chair scraped against the wooden porch floor, sounding too loud in the silent night. It was over. Samuel was gone. There was nothing she could do to take back her mistake.
With a determination she did not feel, she picked up the napkins and the bowls of soup and began to clear the table. Samuel had told her it was time to leave Prudence Island. Time to go back home to Atlanta. But she knew she couldn’t live with herself if she ran away now.
She had to know the reason for her nightmare. Or she would never find her chance at peace.
Samuel told her he was no hero. That he couldn’t help himself…let alone help her. So be it. With or without his help, she was going to stay on the island and continue her search for clues to her past.
If there was a dragon to slay, then she would have to slay it on her own.
In the shadows of the trees a solitary figure stood on the beach, watching as Jessie moved about on the porch.
It’s happening again.
Like mother, like daughter. Attracting men like bees to nectar. One just as much a whore as the other.
A person would have thought Samuel Conners would have more sense, that he’d have been immune to the whore’s charms. But he’s fallen under Jessie’s spell, just like his father fell for Eve.
The palmettos rattled on the ocean breeze, sounding like the clucking of a disapproving tongue. Hands clenched, the figure trembled with bottled-up rage.
With Jessie back on the island, questions will be asked. Once again speculation will be raised. It won’t be long before everyone will wonder if the right person was tried and convicted of Eve Pierce’s death.
And all because the whore returned.
Jessie, her hands laden with dishes, turned away from view and disappeared into the house. The figure stared at the empty porch and waited, too overwhelmed with emotion to move.
It cannot happen again. All my carefully laid plans will be ruined.
Someone has to stop the whore before it’s too late.
Voices.
Loud, angry voices.
Confused and uncertain, she climbed out of bed. Stumbling, she followed the night-darkened hallway and hurried toward the sound of shouting. Her feet leaden, she felt as though she were moving in slow motion. She was disoriented, but did not stop. Her heart raced, fluttering in her chest like a butterfly’s wings.
The voices grew louder. Emotion distorted their timbre, making it hard for her to identify them.
Then, suddenly, there was silence. A heart-stuttering silence.
A beam of light sliced through the inky night, blinding her, paralyzing her with fear….
A shape emerged from the shadows.
A shape large and frightening, coming closer, closer…
Her heart leaping in her chest, she stumbled back, one step, two, until she couldn’t go any farther….
And then there was nothing but darkness. All-encompassing darkness.
Jessie jerked awake, her heart thumping against her ribs. The bedsheets were tangled about her legs. Perspiration drenched her skin. The light cotton fabric of her oversize T-shirt clung to her body. For a panicseizing moment, she didn’t know where she was.
The light from the hallway spilled into the bedroom. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes with the back of one hand, Jessie quickly reacquainted herself with her surroundings.
She was in Gull’s Cottage in the bedroom that had once belonged to her mother. She knew this to be true, not because of any lingering memories or comforting images the room had brought her. Rather, because of the articles of a woman’s clothing in the closet. A forgotten straw hat, a pair of size five, flip-flop sandals, a long, colorful scarf…articles that had been forgotten in someone’s haste to remove all traces of the former occupant.
Jessie shuddered as the cool night air seeped into her overheated senses. Tonight the dream had been worse than usual. She’d felt as though she’d been trapped, unable to pull out, to wake up, until it was almost too late….
She released a breath on a soft cry of frustration. Too late for what?
To stop the argument? To save herself?
She twisted the rumpled bedsheet in her hands. She didn’t know what to think, how to interpret the nightmare. So much of the dream was just a blur.
But not everything was hazy, she reminded herself. The dream had finally revealed something important. Something even more frightening than a childhood fear. Slowly Jessie rose from the white wrought-iron bed. Her legs trembling, she walked to the door of the bedroom, then hesitated before stepping into the hallway. Her heart pounded in her chest as she stared down the long, narrow corridor.
It was the hallway in her dream.
Even in the shadowy images of sleep, she recognized the telltale landmarks. The high ceiling, the tall, carved baseboards, the row of watercolors on the wall, all signed by the artist, Eve Pierce.
This was the hall she had traveled for years in her sleep. The long, unfamiliar hallway that had led her into her worst nightmare.
The floor beneath her feet shifted. The room began to spin. She felt dizzy, sick to her stomach at the realization. If the hallway was real, then the shouting voices must be real, too. Her dream wasn’t a dream, after all.
It was a memory from her past.
Jessie turned from the door and stumbled to the bathroom. She clung to the edge of the marble sink and fought a bitter wave of nausea. Turning on the faucet, she splashed handful after handful of cold water onto her face. Her fingers shook as she reached for a towel.
Pressing the soft terry cloth to her cheeks, she stared at her reflection in the mirror. She looked pale, her face gaunt, her eyes wild with fear. Jessie shuddered. If this was how she reacted to retrieving just a small part of her memory, what would happen when she remembered everything?
Would she survive the ordeal?
Carefully she replaced the towel on the rack. Once again Samuel’s warning to leave Gull’s Cottage and Prudence Island flitted through her mind. Perhaps he was right. But how could she return to Atlanta, knowing that the past wa
s still buried in the recesses of her mind, ticking like a time bomb, waiting to explode? Even if she did run away, the dream would still be there, still haunting her, never giving her a moment’s peace.
Jessie drew in a ragged breath and turned away from the mirror. She moved into the bedroom and crossed to the wall of windows. Pulling back the curtains, she stared out onto the expanse of silvery beach.
If she hadn’t known it before, she knew now that recovering her memory would not be an easy task. Unlocking the secrets of her mind would be the most difficult job she’d ever had to face. She had to be strong. She couldn’t lose her courage.
Not when she was getting so close to the truth.
The graying sky told her it soon would be dawn. Just like the birth of a new day, she, too, needed a fresh start. But before she could begin anew, she had unfinished business to take care of.
Jessie set her shoulders in a determined line. Today, before she lost her nerve, she would tie up the most pressing of those loose strings.
It was still early when Samuel returned from his morning of shrimping. The day’s catch filled the boat’s cargo hold. Despite the dull ache that throbbed in his head from lack of sleep, Samuel was pleased with the morning’s results. They’d had a good run. A few more days like today, and he’d make up for the money lost when he’d been waylaid by a broken motor.
The engines whined as he eased the Marianna, the boat named for his mother, alongside the dock at an empty space near the shrimp company. He coasted to a smooth stop, then cut the motor. Jacob and Billie, the junior member of Samuel’s crew, scrambled to secure the boat, tying the thick lines to the pilings. Samuel climbed down from the pilothouse, moving toward the hold to help his men transfer the iced-down shrimp onto the waiting conveyor belt.
As he strode onto the deck, he took two steps, then stumbled to an abrupt halt. Blinking hard, he couldn’t believe his own eyes as he stared at the woman standing on the dock.
It was Jessie.
Safe in His Arms Page 8
