The Truth About Toby

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The Truth About Toby Page 11

by Cheryl St. John


  “Not a bad idea. I just haven’t taken the time to do it.”

  Austin carried the packing crates in and they spent the remainder of the day assembling the base and tank.

  “The inn used to be Audrey’s grandmother’s home,” she said, picking up the conversation they’d started earlier. “She’s in a nursing home now, and when her family put all her things and the house up for auction, Audrey wanted it. I was working with her at a collection agency at the time, and we decided we’d rather have our own business, so we went out on a limb and financed the place together.”

  Listening, Austin used a screwdriver to tighten the screws holding the cabinet doors.

  “Audrey’s husband used his connections to have a lot of the work done, and the rest we did ourselves—all the stripping and sanding and painting and staining.”

  “Sounds like a lot of work.”

  “It was. Only a few of the pieces of furniture are original. Audrey’s family sold it all off and divided the money. We couldn’t afford to buy any of it then, what with getting the house itself, so it’s taken us about five years to replace furnishings.”

  “They’re all antiques?”

  “Mostly. We even scoured farms and ranches and found old claw-foot bathtubs that were being used to water livestock. Each room needed its own bath, you know.”

  “Big job.”

  “It’s rewarding. We run an authentic Victorian bed and breakfast, and we’re working for ourselves.”

  He stood, a look of admiration in his eyes, but he turned his attention to their handiwork. “Shall we fill it?”

  “Why not? Won’t be much fun to look at without water.”

  “Won’t be much fun to look at it without fish, either,” he replied.

  “Where are we gonna get fish?”

  He shrugged. “I’ll check an on-line directory and find someone who will ship me some.”

  “You mean—” she glanced toward his desk “—like order them on your computer?”

  He nodded.

  “No way,” she drawled.

  “As long as there’s a place on-line.”

  “I saw that Sandra Bullock movie,” she said, following him. “She ordered pizza and plane tickets, and she had people chasing her all over for top secret information.”

  “My job isn’t quite that exciting,” he said, slipping into his chair and pulling up a new screen.

  Shaine stood behind him and watched, fascinated by his rapid keystrokes and his assurance as he maneuvered on the Internet. “Here’s something interesting,” he said.

  She’d taken to studying his broad shoulders, his dark, finger-combed hair and his profile. She had an overwhelming desire to reach out and lay her hand against the skin of his neck or his tanned cheek. Putting the aquarium together had only been a delay. His nearness still drove her crazy.

  The early evening had grown fairly dark, and he hadn’t bothered to turn on a lamp. The ghostly light from his computer screen flickered across his intent features.

  In Shaine’s mind, another image superimposed itself over this one. The same handsome profile, a similar flickering light, but an expression of torment and indecision.

  The man at the window.

  The man in her dreams.

  She hadn’t had the dream since coming here. Of course that man was Austin! Why hadn’t she realized that before?

  What was going to happen to cause him such anguish? Who was going to do that to him?

  Her.

  No. She didn’t want to think that. That wasn’t why she’d come. She’d never considered the possibility that his helping her could hurt him so much. Was knowing ahead of time that hurt was coming enough to keep it from happening? She couldn’t quit now. Wouldn’t. She was too close to finding a way to get to Toby.

  Strong. Solid. Assured. Those were the only ways she’d seen this man until now. But now she knew, understood somehow, that a profound vulnerability lurked just beneath the brawny surface.

  She didn’t want to be responsible for the pain she believed would be his once her dream came to pass. She knew no way to stop it, however. Not without packing her things and heading back to Omaha.

  And that was out of the question.

  She did what she’d resisted, and placed the backs of her fingers against his neck, just below his ear.

  His hands paused on the keyboard.

  She turned her hand and stroked his skin, tested the thick texture of his hair.

  He typed a couple of words.

  She stepped behind him and kneaded the muscles of his neck and shoulders, loving the warmth and strength beneath the soft sweater.

  Her own boldness surprised her.

  He made a deep-souled sound, not quite a groan.

  she locked her fingers in his hair, and he dropped all pretense of trying to find what he was looking for and rested his head back against her midriff.

  After stroking his temples, she ran her hands down his stubbled cheeks and brown throat and across his chest.

  He swiveled the chair so she was at his side, and with a gentle tug, pulled her down. Shaine fell into his lap, heedless of the chair arms cutting into her back and legs, and searched his dark eyes. The same fire burning in her breast, gave his expression a sultry ardency.

  He’d told her he’d take her to bed. He’d warned her he wouldn’t commit himself. Was that enough for her? Was this passion something that could be quenched by a few nights together? She didn’t think so.

  Nor was it something she’d be able to pretend she’d never felt and go on without learning what could have been.

  “What are you doing, Shaine?” he asked, his voice a husky rasp.

  “I don’t know.”

  He tucked her hair behind her ear and cupped her cheek, his thumb stroking the crest of her cheekbone. “Well, you’re distracting me.”

  “You were distracting me,” she countered.

  “I wasn’t doing anything.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  His brows rose.

  She blushed, but with his knuckles, he prevented her from ducking her chin to hide.

  Austin’s gaze took in her lovely long-lashed eyes, the sweeping bow of her tempting lips, and didn’t miss the fluttering pulse that beat at the base of her throat. He moved his thumb to that susceptible point. His hand looked dark against her lovely pale skin.

  She didn’t weigh much, but her rounded bottom in his lap created a pressure of another kind. He felt himself stiffen, almost embarrassed at his immediate response.

  He drew her toward him until he could kiss her throat. She smelled wonderful. He opened his lips on her soft flesh. She tasted wonderful. A tremor ran through her body, and she released a sweet sigh. Against his chest, she clutched his sweater in a fist.

  Her reactions were genuine. Marvelously eloquent. His touches affected her in a wholly gratifying manner. Lord, she was beautiful and sexy and passionate, and she wanted him. Her silky hair, her wide eyes, her slender body and those incredibly long legs had turned him on from the first time he’d seen her. The thought of her undressed, willing and wanting, filled him with a fierce sense of possessiveness that gave him pause.

  With her hands on his shoulders, she pulled back and smiled, a sweet uncertain smile that he knew he didn’t deserve. He’d acted like a jerk since the moment she’d arrived. He’d behaved purely out of self-preservation, but she’d had no way of knowing that. And still she had that expectant look in her eyes whenever they were close. Each time he held her, comforted her, she responded to his touches the same way a stick of dynamite responds to a match.

  The same way she did now as he slid one hand underneath her sweater and flattened his palm against her back. If excitement vibrated through her at that, how would she respond to more intimate caresses? He would love to find out.

  He took her lips with his then, exultantly, riotously, graphically, showing her the enthusiasm was mutual.

  She kissed him back, running her hands over his sho
ulders, his neck, his jaw. He touched his tongue to her lips, and she met it with her own. He groaned and ran his other hand beneath her sweater, inching it upward.

  Shaine helped him, tugging the garment over her head and dropping it heedlessly. Her white lacy bra seductively pushed her breasts upward. She turned her upper body to face him more squarely. He framed her ribs and kissed the pale exposed skin above the fabric.

  Delicious tingles spread through her body at his intoxicating attention. He made her feel so good. So good about herself. So good about them together.

  She wanted to feel his skin beneath her palms. She slid her fingers inside the neck of his sweater, and he didn’t need any more prompting. He leaned forward so that she had to grip the arm of the chair to keep from falling. Beneath the sweater he wore a form-fitting cotton undershirt. It disappeared as quickly.

  Oh, my, his skin was warm. Warm and supple, and a sensual delight beneath her greedy hands. She leaned down to kiss him again, indulging her craving to know more, taste more of this man who set her senses aflame. She traced his collarbone, the defined muscles of his shoulders and upper arms, seeking, discovering, acquainting. She couldn’t seem to know enough of him.

  He kissed her harder, deep and determined, and pulled away momentarily, and they both caught their breath. “You could drive a man mad,” he breathed against her lips.

  In the minimal light from the computer screen, his dark eyes were filled with glinting desire, his hair mussed. She used the opportunity to touch his lips and feel the heat and moisture.

  “You know what you’re doing to me,” he said.

  She gazed into his eyes. “I know I’ve never felt this way with anyone before. I’m afraid to miss anything.”

  “I won’t let you miss anything.” Bracing an arm across her back, he moved upward out of the chair, and she clung to his neck to keep from falling. He didn’t get far, lowering her to the floor and stretching out, his weight partially on her.

  He kissed her, and this time she could reach the broad expanse of his back. Their kisses grew demanding, unsatisfying. Austin wedged his knee between hers, and their bodies strained against one another.

  He engulfed her breast with one hand, kneaded her flesh through the flimsy material, lowering his head and plucking moist kisses as far as he could reach.

  His caresses made her wild with need. Shaine thought she might explode if he continued the unmerciful arousal of her body and senses. He nuzzled her stomach above her jeans, ran a hand over her hip and thigh and brought it up to cup her through the denim.

  Stars burst behind her eyelids. Her breath abandoned her in a rapturous gasp. She curled her nails against his scalp.

  “Look at me.”

  She did. She could barely make out his face in the near dark.

  “This is getting serious,” he said. “Do you want to go on?”

  She’d never wanted anything as much as she wanted him to take her all the way. He’d been clear about his feelings from the beginning. She could expect no more than this from him.

  Knowing that, did she want to go on?

  Chapter 10

  Shaine wished she could see his face better, see the hard curve of his biceps and the flat plane of his stomach. He was so beautiful. So special. And if this was all she could expect, then she wouldn’t ask for more.

  This impetuous, yet totally absorbing and erotic delirium he’d created was more than she’d ever expected to experience. Having this much of him was better than having nothing or no one at all. She’d been lonely for so long. She’d never known anyone who’d made her feel so good about herself.

  “Yes,” she said. “I want it very much.”

  He brought his hand to her cheek. “You are so beautiful,” he whispered.

  The words amazed her more than anything that had happened so far. Feeling beautiful beneath his hands, she smiled.

  “Tell me how to please you,” he said.

  “Turn a light on.”

  She thought his brows rose in surprise. He ran his hand down her bare arm and drew her fingers to his mouth. “Shall we go upstairs?” he asked, kissing them.

  She nodded.

  Standing, he pulled her to her feet. He turned on a lamp as they passed through the living room, and rested his hand on her hip as she climbed the stairs ahead of him. She reached the bed and sat to remove her boots and socks.

  Austin did the same, and then they stood, facing one another.

  There was just enough light to see him, tall and broad and breathtakingly handsome. She would remember this always.

  He reached for her waist and she helped him remove her jeans. She stepped out of the denim, and heard his intake of breath.

  “You have the longest, sexiest legs,” he said, his voice gruff with excitement.

  “You like long legs?”

  “I do now.” Austin reached behind her and unfastened her bra, dropping it to the side.

  Lord, she was beautiful. Long, silky legs that went on forever, perfect mauve-tipped breasts and a waist that dipped in and flared out over rounded hips. She looked as good as he’d imagined all along. He slid her white briefs down her legs, and she kicked them away. He gazed at her, desire and tenderness warring inside him.

  He was the one uncertain of how to go on. He’d never made love to a woman that he actually knew anything about, a woman he knew had feelings and a history, and that he’d come to care for more than he should have. He knew he could please her physically.

  That’s not what gave him hesitation. He found himself wanting to fulfill her emotionally, as well, and that was an entirely new concept. It was also a mistake.

  He’d told her from the beginning that he’d take her to bed without a second thought. Now here they were; she’d understood the rules, so why was he having any doubt at all?

  He should have been tumbling her on that bed and wrapping those gorgeous legs around his waist, oblivious to anything else.

  But he wasn’t. He was wondering how many other guys had known her passionate nature and taken pleasure in her body, and he was hating himself for it. He had no right to wonder. None.

  “Austin?” Her voice held a quiver and her nipples tightened.

  “Get into bed before you freeze.” She obeyed. Conscious of his responsibility, he went to his travel kit first, then slipped out of his jeans and joined her.

  He kissed her and she clutched his shoulders.

  He nuzzled her neck and she sighed.

  He lowered his mouth to a tightly beaded nipple and she gasped.

  She was the most responsive woman he’d ever known. She gave herself over to her senses without inhibition, her earthy gratification evident in the way she touched his hair, his skin, pressed her nose to his chest and inhaled.

  He couldn’t wait any longer to have her. He rolled her to her back. She breathed a sound of surprise and pleasure into his ear when he entered her. She met him kiss for kiss, thrust for thrust, breathlessly sharing the steady climb to ecstasy.

  He loved the feel of her hands in his hair, almost more intimate than her silken thighs around his hips, because he’d never before known a nurturing caress.

  With breathless words and eager motions, she told him what pleased her and begged him not to stop.

  He couldn’t have stopped if his life was threatened. He joined her in rapturous fulfillment and sprawled beside her.

  “Don’t leave yet,” she said softly.

  “I won’t. I didn’t want to crush you.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  He eased back over her damp body, twined a leg with hers and rested his head on her pillow.

  He didn’t think he’d ever want to move again. Slowly his heart resumed a natural cadence.

  Shaine gloried in Austin’s weight and heat, feeling safe, secure, desirable—all the things she’d needed to feel for a long time, all the feelings that had made her forget what she was really doing here.

  Finally Austin moved to her side, taking her with him, and
she cuddled against his chest, replete.

  The phone rang. The covers tugged away as Austin reached for the receiver. “Allen here.”

  Shaine blinked, trying to orient herself. The shrill ring still echoed in the room, and she realized that it had been the first phone call she’d heard here.

  Austin ran a hand over his eyes, exposing his underarm. Shaine stroked the sleep-warm skin with one finger, drawing his gaze.

  “Mmm-hmm,” he said to the person on the line. “What’s this guy going to do now?... No... You’ll call? Thanks.” He hung up and lay back down.

  Holding the sheet to her chest, Shaine leaned up on an elbow. “Well?”

  “The McCullough woman’s working at a hamburger joint in Panama City, Florida. They followed her to the Starlight Motel. Later, a man joined her. Detectives went to the door and confronted her. She left her husband and took off with this guy last July. They traveled around some, but have been holed up there for over a month.” He lay on his back and stared at the skylight. “You were right.”

  She absorbed his words, as well as the unspoken distress beneath them. “That’s good, isn’t it? That I found her?”

  He faced her. “It’s good. You solved a missing-persons case.”

  “Why do I have the feeling you’re not entirely comfortable with this?”

  “There’s nothing ‘comfortable’ about the whole process. It’s hell, and you’ll have to see that sooner or later.”

  She knew that. He’d made it clear from the start. She lay back down. He hadn’t really answered her question. Her finding the McCullough woman wasn’t sitting right with him.

  Shaine studied the heavens above the skylight.

  “It’s not always like that,” he said finally. “Try not to count on it.”

  “Didn’t you ever find anyone alive?” She waited.

  “I can count them on one hand. We see so differently, you and I.” Thoughtfully he said, “I just can’t quite put my finger on something important we’re not understanding.”

  “This proves that I can do it, though, doesn’t it?” she asked.

  “Oh, you can do it,” he replied.

 

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