Blake fiddled with the phone and entered a number into his own. He tossed it to Sam. “You want it?”
Sam nodded. “I’m going to call him tonight, on the way home.”
Christ, he really is leaving me. “Please, Sam. Stay with me.”
“That’s my exit cue,” Blake said. “I don’t need to watch my little sister get it on.”
Sam let out laugh that sounded forced. “Nothing’s happening.” He tossed his cell phone to Blake. “Put your number in mine. I’ll contact you in the morning.”
Blake put in the number and then tossed the phone back. “Sounds good. Take care of her, will you?”
“I will.”
Good, maybe that meant he was staying.
Blake shut the door behind him.
“I’m going to go out in the hall for a few minutes and call Rod,” Sam said.
“Stay here. You can put him on speaker.” No, she didn’t want to talk to Rod. She’d rather be hung by her toenails on a clothesline, but she had to know if he knew anything.
“Let me handle this,” Sam said. “You relax. I promise I’ll tell you everything.”
She relented. Relaxing was out of the question, of course, but not dealing with Rod sounded like heaven on Earth at the moment.
Sam left the room.
Sydney lay on the bed. She wanted to cry. She wanted to cry for her parents whom she didn’t know at all, it turned out. She wanted to cry for her big brother, who’d had a reason for leaving after all. She wanted to cry for Sam, from whom she’d kept such a terrible secret for so many years. How would he be able to trust her? And mostly she wanted to cry for her beautiful little boy whom she might never see again. Might never hear his bubbly laughter, might never hear his sweet little voice call her “Sassy.”
Was she truly all cried out? Had she become numb?
Sam entered about ten minutes later. “He says he has no clue where they are. But get this, he’s offered to help us locate them.”
“Don’t trust him,” Sydney said.
“Don’t worry. You want to know his price for his help?”
“What?”
“You.”
Sydney’s tummy tumbled. What was it with this guy? Couldn’t he take no for an answer?
But she sighed. “Take his help if you need it, Sam. I will go back with him if it means Duke comes home safely.”
“No, you will not. Besides, I don’t believe for a minute that he knows anything. He let something slip that made me figure out why he and his father are so anxious for this marriage. Evidently his father got involved in some bad business deals with bad people. Mob, Syd. That’s why Rod’s father wants this marriage. He figures with you in the family, he can keep them off his back.”
“Still, if he can help us find Duke—”
Sam shook his head. “I won’t put you in that position. You are not a piece of property he can own. You are no one’s price.”
Warmth coursed through her. He was right, of course. But to hear the words and see the fierce look of possession on his face made her think he might be able to forgive her. Perhaps their love had a chance.
She yawned. “I’m so sleepy.”
“I know, baby. I’m gonna get out of here and let you rest.”
Her body quivered. Being alone scared the hell out of her. “Please don’t. I mean, please stay with me.”
“Syd…”
“I won’t come on to you. I promise. You can sleep in the other bed if you want. I just can’t be alone.”
He nodded. “I don’t relish being alone tonight ether, truth be told.” He stalked toward her. “And I don’t relish sleeping in the other bed.”
* * *
Sydney woke in Sam’s arms. They hadn’t made love, just held each other, and it had been perfect.
Or it would have been, if not for everything else going on.
Her cell phone vibrated on the nightstand and she picked it up. Her neighbors from the adjacent ranch.
“Sydney,” Marcia Tucker said, “Jay went over early this morning. No one’s home. The foreman hasn’t heard from your parents. He hadn’t checked his cell yet, so that’s why he hasn’t called you back.”
“Thanks, Marsh. I’m sorry I bothered you.”
“Not a problem. Is everything okay?”
“I’m not sure yet. I’ll keep you posted.”
Sydney ended the call as Sam began to stir next to her.
“That was my neighbor,” she told him. “Mom and Dad aren’t home, and the foreman hasn’t seen them or heard from them.”
“I’m not surprised.” He held his arms open and she snuggled into them. “We’ll find them, sweetheart. I promise.”
“Where do we start? It’ll be like looking for a needle in a haystack.”
“I know. We need to look for clues. They must have left something behind.”
“The only clue we have is the bank account in the Caymans,” Sydney said.
“That’ll be our starting point. Of course they can have the money wired anywhere. We need a good hacker.”
“And a PI.”
“Chad knows a great one. I’ll give him a call and get his number. He knows his way around computers too. He got into Dusty’s medical records a while back.”
“What? That’s illegal.”
“That’s my point. The guy can do pretty much anything. He’s probably a good place to start. In the meantime”—he ogled her—“I need a shower. How about you?”
“I could use one,” she said, “but I’m not in the mood to…you know.”
“I understand. You want to go first?”
“You go ahead. I want to lie here for a few minutes.”
Sam gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and traipsed to the shower.
Sydney closed her eyes as the whoosh of the water met her ears. Sam in the shower. Naked. Warm water pulsating on his amazing body, soothing his fatigued muscles. He was so beautiful. So masculine.
So perfect in every way.
She so didn’t deserve him.
Her eyes misted. She was tired of crying. If only she had told Sam the truth when she was pregnant, none of this would have happened. Maybe he would have wanted her and the baby. Maybe they would have fallen in love then.
Maybe, maybe, maybe…
She needed him. Needed his body close to hers, needed the comfort of his loving touch.
She got up and went into the bathroom. “It’s me,” she said.
“You okay, baby?”
“Yeah, I just—” She sighed. “You want some company?”
He pulled the shower curtain back. His sandy hair was wet and matted down, his golden body covered in gleaming water. She wanted more than company. She wanted him inside her.
“If you come in here all naked and wet, I may not be able to keep my hands to myself.”
“I’m sorta counting on that.”
She pulled off her robe and entered. Mmm, the warm water soothed her tired body. Sam pulled her close to him for a kiss.
It was a sweet kiss, a comforting kiss, just what Sydney needed.
As they kissed, he lifted her and eased her open with his hard cock.
She was tight, and her channel offered resistance at first. Sam didn’t force it. Just held her in his strong arms and eased her down gently until she took all of him.
How good it felt. How right.
He lifted her up and down, oh so gently and so slowly, his groans music to her ears.
“Yes, Sam, yes. That’s so nice. So good.”
He moaned in response.
His strength was more of a comfort than a turn-on at the moment. His presence a salve, a healing ointment.
She didn’t plan to climax, didn’t even want to, so when the explosion sneaked up on her, it was a welcome surprise.
He continued his slow movements as she spasmed against him, and when she finished, he pulled her down hard on his erect cock.
“Yeah, baby. God, you feel good.”
When he went limp
and slacked against the wall of the shower stall, she slid down his body until her feet hit the wet floor. She leaned against him, fearing her legs would wobble. After a few minutes, she had her footing and she pushed backward to look into his warm brown eyes.
“Thank you,” she said.
He smiled, his own eyes glazed over. “It was wonderful. You are wonderful.”
“We are wonderful. Together.”
Disappointment crept into her when he didn’t respond, but she refused to let it spoil the beauty of what had just occurred between them.
They were right together. He would see that eventually.
I will hold onto that belief. She had to. She wasn’t sure she could go on if she didn’t.
Sam was done washing so he left the stall, leaving Sydney to finish her shower alone.
When she finished, toweled off, and went into to bedroom, Sam was already dressed.
“Your cell rang,” he said.
“It was probably Blake. Why didn’t you answer it?”
“Not my place.” He tossed it to her.
“Hmm, not Blake after all. In fact, not a number or an area code I recognize. Looks like whoever it was left a voicemail.” She quickly dialed voicemail.
Sydney, it’s Dad. Your mother’s in the hospital in Branson. I’m catching a flight and bringing Duke home to you.
Chapter Twenty
“I’m sorry, Sam,” Doug Cartwright, the county sheriff, said. “I can’t arrest the man when he gets off the plane. He took his own son away. That’s not a crime.”
Sam took a sip of his coffee. He and Sydney sat with Doug at Rena’s Coffee Shop. Sam had called Doug after Sydney had told him about Roy’s voicemail.
Now what? Sam drummed his fingers on the table until a jolt went through him. “Hey, stealing’s a crime around here.”
“Sure is,” Doug said.
“He took Sydney’s purse money from her barrel race.”
“That’s a horse of a different color,” Doug said. “Tell me more.”
Sydney’s hand touched his arm. “No, Sam.”
“No, what?”
“I’m sorry. I can’t have my father arrested and thrown in jail. I won’t press charges for the money.”
Is she serious? Smoke threatened to come right out his ears. “Are you kidding, Syd? That’s all we’ve got.”
Tears welled in Sydney’s eyes. “He’s my father. And he’s bringing Duke back.”
“Jesus H. Christ.”
“He’ll have an explanation, I’m sure of it. My mother’s in the hospital. I don’t even know what’s wrong with her. I’m worried.”
“Worried? After what they did?”
“They’re still my parents.”
“Sydney, they’ve been lying to you your whole life.”
“I know, I know.” She sniffed. “And I’m sure they thought they had a good reason.”
“Fuck their good reasons. Did they have a good reason for taking your son away? For stealing your money?”
“I’m sure they thought they did.”
Doug’s police radio buzzed. “Excuse me,” he said and headed to another table.
Sam said nothing, just stared at the beautiful woman who’d stolen his heart—and his son. How could he reconcile any of this? And now she was turning a blind eye to her father’s theft. How could she? After all her parents had done? All the lies? How could she get past all that?
How could anyone get past that?
Sam shook his head slowly. How could he get past Sydney’s lies?
As if reading his mind, she said, “I never actually lied to you, Sam.”
Well, she had him there. She didn’t lie. She just didn’t tell him, first about the child five years ago, and then about her engagement to Rod Kyle.
Nope, she wasn’t getting away with that one. “Omission is betrayal. Case closed.” He stood.
Doug walked back toward the table. “I have to get going. Are we done here?”
Sam looked down at Sydney. “You’re not pressing charges?”
Sydney shook her head.
“Then, yes, we’re done here.” Sam walked out the door, his own words ringing in his ears. They had so many meanings.
He wanted to look back, see Sydney’s face. Would she come after him? He didn’t know. His car wasn’t far. His walk turned into a jog and then a sprint. He got into his car and shut the door.
He didn’t look to see if Sydney was behind him. Nope, he looked only ahead.
Ahead to Denver. He’d go to the airport, wait for all the flights from Branson, and he’d have it out with Roy Buchanan once and for all.
Driving to Denver was usually relaxing, full of natural scenic beauty. He hardly ever saw another vehicle on the country roads. Normally Sam loved driving through the canyons, loved the fresh aroma of pine. Today he appreciated none of that. His nerves were on edge. He wasn’t sure what he’d do to Roy when he saw him. His fists itched to pummel the bastard, but he’d have the boy with him. Sam had to think about Duke.
Duke.
His son.
His and Sydney’s son.
If only things had been different. If Sydney had told him. Perhaps they could have started their life together five years ago, and today Duke would be their son. Maybe they’d have had another.
Who knows?
He’d never know.
He loved Sydney. She touched a part of him that no other woman had. Making love to her was like a beautiful symphony. It was perfection.
But they could never be together.
Love without trust was nothing.
Nothing at all.
The semitruck came out of nowhere. To avoid collision, Sam, at eighty miles per hour, drove off the two lane road into the ditch. His windshield shattered, and a loose board from the fence he hit broke through it, scattering shards of glass all over him. Barbed wire from the cattle fence poked through and gouged his face and eyes.
Searing pain shot through him.
Move. I’ve got to move.
Then nothing.
* * *
“Sam! Oh my God, Sam!”
The country road was dead. Sydney had been driving to Denver to find Sam. Where else would he have gone? To the airport to find Roy and Duke.
Fear had overwhelmed her when she saw the white sedan in the ditch on the empty road halfway to the city.
It’s not Sam. It can’t be Sam.
But the white sedan was none other than Sam’s rental car.
He was pinned in the driver’s seat. A pool of shattered glass surrounded him. One of his eyes was lacerated and bleeding.
Sydney gulped back nausea. God, he can’t lose his eye.
The rest of his face and arms were covered with lacerations from the glass and barbed wire. She checked the pulse on his neck.
Weak, but there.
Thank God. He’s alive. I have to help him. I have to. Please, Sam, don’t die.
Quickly she grabbed her cell phone to call 9-1-1.
No service. Goddamnit! She threw the phone into the road. Then, realizing she’d need the phone, she ran into the road and retrieved it.
Thank God it was still working. Now what? Now what? Now what?
She had to get help. Had to help Sam.
She touched his bloody cheek. “Sam? Sam, can you hear me?”
His lips twitched.
“It’s Sydney, Sam.”
More twitching, a soft grunt.
“Can you hear me?”
“Sssss.”
Yes! He was trying to reach her. She knew it.
“Sam, listen to me. I’m going to get help. I promise you.”
“Sydee,” he whispered.
“I’m going to take care of you. I have to leave to get help. My cell phone doesn’t have any service. But I will get you to a hospital. I promise. Hold onto that. Please.”
“Ssss.”
“I love you, Sam O’Donovan, and I promise you, I’m not going to let you die.”
She summone
d all the strength and courage within her. Leaving him felt all wrong, but she had to.
“I love you,” she said again. A tear dropped onto his cheek. Oh no! It probably stung him.
She eased backward, leaving him as still as possible. Then she raced to her car and gunned the engine. She kept going on the route to Denver, checking her cell every thirty seconds for service. When she finally got one bar, she quickly typed in 9-1-1.
Damnit! The call didn’t go through.
She tried again.
“9-1-1,” the operator said.
“Yes, hello,” she said breathlessly. “There’s a man on Route 5, about twenty miles outside Bakersville in route to Denver. His car went into a ditch. He’s hurt badly. He needs help now!”
“Can you describe the vehicle, ma’am?”
“A white sedan. Might be a Honda. Shit, I don’t know. Just get out there!”
“Your name, ma’am?”
“Sydney Buchanan. The man’s name is Sam O’Donovan. Please! Now!”
“We’ll send an ambulance.”
“No! Damnit, not an ambulance. You won’t make it in time.”
“Ma’am, we need to—”
“The helicopter. Or something better. I’d get him there myself but I can’t move him!”
“Ma’am, try to calm down.”
“I can’t fucking calm down! I love this man! Please help him. God, he can’t die. I promised him I wouldn’t let him die. Please!”
A few moments elapsed. “Helicopter has been dispatched.”
“Thank God. How long?”
“As soon as humanly possible, ma’am. No longer than a half hour.”
Damn, too long! But she didn’t have a choice. She couldn’t do anything else.
She thanked the operator but had a hard time hanging up. The call was her lifeline. Sam’s lifeline.
She drove back to Sam. God, please let him still be alive.
The sedan shone innocently in the sun, as if it didn’t know it held a life in peril. Fear gripped Sydney as she ran toward the car.
Sam sat in the same position she’d left him.
She gulped back her tears. “I’m back, Sam. Help is coming.”
No response.
She touched his cheek again. “Sam?”
Still no response.
She took a deep breath and pressed her shaky fingers to his pulse point.
Trusting Sydney: The Temptation Saga: Book Six Page 15
