“A key? You can’t be serious.”
“It’s w-worth a try before you go R-Rambo on me and break down the door.”
“I wasn’t going to break down the door. Only a pane of glass so I—oh, forget it.” Reilly watched Cassandra move toward the double doors and reach up in an attempt to run her hands across the molding’s edge. “Here, hold the light.”
Cassandra took the flashlight and aimed it on the doors as Reilly dragged his hands along the edge. “No key. Any other bright ideas?”
“T-try the windows.”
“That was my plan in the first place.”
“No, I mean try the upper m-molding on the w-windows.”
“There’s got to be at least a dozen windows along this side of the house. We could’ve been inside by now if you’d let me break one of them.”
She ignored him and shone the beam of light on the upper edge of the first window. Reilly moved quickly down the left side of the house. He noticed with each window the flashlight’s beam was becoming shakier.
“Okay, you satisfied? No key.”
“T-try the o-other side.”
“Cass, you’re freezing and you’re hurt.” He walked back to her. “We’ve got to get inside before you pass out. Look, you said no one’s been here in years, but maybe we can find some blankets or build a fire—”
“B-both sound won-wonderful, but I can’t just b-break one of the windows. It would b-be like b-beating up an old l-lady.”
Reilly shook his head at her reasoning and took the flashlight from her trembling hands. “I’ll check the rest of the windows. If there isn’t a key I’m going to break in, deal?”
“Deal.”
Moving to the next window, Reilly ran his hand along the edge and found the icy coldness of the small key ring. “I’ll be damned. You were right.”
“Say th-that again.”
“You were—” Reilly stopped and smiled. “Very funny. Come on, let’s get inside. Here, hold the light again.”
Reilly put his hands over hers and Cassandra almost wept from the heat of his touch on her freezing fingers. Yanking her hands away, she brought one of them to her mouth. It helped, but it was a far cry from the intense warmth of Reilly’s touch.
She had no idea why it was so important to her they not break one of the house’s windows to get out of the storm. Maybe because it was her fault they were caught out here.
After checking into the charming bed and breakfast, she’d found herself unable to look at the lovely four-poster bed that overwhelmed her room. Images of her and Reilly, lost in the luxurious linens, their naked bodies intertwined in a sizzling embrace, had flashed through her mind. Running away had been the only answer.
“Okay, we’re in. Here, let me help you.”
Cassandra moved away from his outstretched hand, just like she’d done in the car, and slipped inside. She didn’t think she would be able to hold it together if he touched her again. It had been hard enough not to sink into his warmth and strength when they’d raced from the car to the porch. “I d-don’t need any help, I’m f-fine.”
It was pitch black and she only ventured a few steps before stopping. Reilly moved in behind her. “Here, give me the flash—”
Something brushed against her bare ankles and Cassandra let loose a loud squeal. Spinning around, she grabbed at Reilly and the flashlight crashed to the floor, its bright beam of light instantly gone.
“What the— Cassandra, what are you doing?”
So much for not touching the man. “Something touched me.”
“I wasn’t anywhere near you.”
She couldn’t see his face, but the warmth of his breath rushed over her cheeks. At the same moment she again felt the brush against her ankles. “Not you, you i-imbecile! Oh, there it is again! Something is on the floor!”
Tightening her hold, Cassandra pressed herself hard against Reilly’s body. His hands grabbed her around the waist and pulled her against his chest until her toes barely touched the ground.
“Right now, you’re not even on the floor.”
“I’m not k-kidding, Murdock! I felt—something. A rat, a mouse…it brushed up against me!”
“Let me guess. You won’t bend over and get the flashlight?”
She couldn’t see the mocking smile on his face, but she knew it was there. “I’d say that’s a guarantee.”
With one arm still bracketed around her waist, Reilly reached between their bodies with his free hand.
“What are you doing?”
“Looking for my damn—” a soft click and then a bright flame sprang to life revealing Reilly’s face, “—lighter.”
“You don’t smoke. Do you?”
“Not anymore, but some old habits are hard to break.”
“Gee, you really are a Boy Scout.”
Cassandra watched as Reilly’s lips slowly curved, revealing a dimple. His devilish grin went straight to her heart. “Well, at least I’ll be able to make us a fire.”
A shiver coursed through her body. As much as she wanted to blame it on the fact they both were soaking wet, she knew that wasn’t the reason. And it wasn’t because of the storm or the fact someone seemed to be hell bent on hurting her.
No, it was this man who held her in his arms. “If th-there is a f-fireplace.”
Reilly’s smile faltered before he released her. “Ah, yeah, well, I’m sure a house like this has a fireplace.”
“Reilly…”
“Don’t worry, I’m sure your furry friend is gone.” Bending, Reilly waved the lighter around, pushing back the darkness until he found the flashlight. “Damn, it’s broken.”
“What do you mean broken?”
“As in won’t work, no light, broken. What part are you having trouble with?”
Knowing it wasn’t going to help erase the chill, Cassandra still pulled her jacket tightly around her. Reilly was only standing a couple of feet away and what little light they had flickered with him, leaving her in the dark. “Look, it wasn’t my idea to s-stay the night.”
“No, you’re just the big city girl who jumped into my arms the moment a breeze blew across—”
“It wasn’t a b-breeze. I don’t know w-what it was, but it was alive. Look, do you th-think we could at least try to find a fireplace or s-something? I’m f-freezing.”
“Sure, princess. I’m a little wet myself.” Reilly walked toward her, shoving the flashlight into his back pocket. “Stick close. I can’t see much with just the lighter.”
Cassandra grabbed onto Reilly’s jacket and fell into step behind him as they shuffled across the floor. “You don’t s-seem to be b-bumping into anything.”
“I’m trying to stay in the middle—ah, this seems to be an open area here. I can’t see if there’s anything—”
Reilly’s words disappeared as he crashed into something and seconds later, their only source of light was gone too.
“Watch out!” She seized the wet leather of Reilly’s jacket and ran into him. Engulfed in darkness again, she caught her balance, then moved around his stooped form. With one hand outstretched, she found the edge of a table and slid along its smooth surface until she stood between it and Reilly. “Is it your right knee?”
“With my luck? Hell, yeah—hey, how did you know that?”
“You’ve been my shadow for the last week.” Cassandra couldn’t see in the dark, but she felt Reilly rise back to his full height. She tried to take a step back, but the table pressed into her backside. “You don’t think I noticed the grunts and groans? What is it? An old Army injury?”
“Marines.”
The heat of his whispered word washed over her cheek. Her eyes still hadn’t adjusted to the darkness. She couldn’t see Reilly’s face, but the heat radiating off his wet clothes and skin clung to the wetness of hers, and she knew he was only inches away.
“Okay,” she conceded, “an old Marine injury?”
“Yeah.”
He moved closer. She forced herself not to lean
into his warmth, no matter how strong the desire to do so welled inside her. “Want to talk about it?”
“No.”
Were those his lips brushing over her forehead?
Another shiver rippled through her and she struggled not to show it. “You know, I’ve said this before, but despite all the time we’ve spent together, I still don’t know much about you. I mean, other than you like Gershwin, have an unhealthy attachment to your gun and you’re a good kisser.”
Good?
Hmmm, that didn’t sit too well in Reilly’s gut. Last night Cassandra had practically dragged him down on top of her, begging with her body, her touch and her kisses for him to finish what he’d foolishly started.
Okay, technically, she’d kissed him first, but it didn’t matter. He’d reached for her and placed kisses in her hair and along her cheek until their mouths met. He’d been the one who’d kissed her again after the need for air forced them apart.
Reilly found himself responding to the memory. Hell, he’d been living in a state of semi-arousal ever since.
Admit it, Murdock, from the moment you saw her standing in the middle of an overcrowded storeroom you’ve been on fire for this woman.
And here they were, alone in a dark house. His house.
Cassandra was so close she’d be able to tell what he was thinking by leaning forward to brush her body against him. The thought caused his jeans to tighten painfully.
Stop thinking with your lower half, Reilly silently lectured his ego. She was scared last night. Hurting and looking for reassurance, nothing more. Now back away before you do something stupid. Like kiss her again.
“A good kisser, huh?” Reilly forced the words past the tightness in his throat. He took a step back. “Well, that takes the sting out of the attachment to my gun remark.”
“Reilly—”
“Don’t.”
“You don’t like to talk about yourself, do you?”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“I don’t believe that.”
Reilly grunted. He couldn’t believe they were standing here in the dark talking like this. “You haven’t been exactly overflowing with details yourself, princess.”
The catch in her breathing told him he’d touched a nerve. “What do you want to know?” she asked.
For starters, what you look like naked. “We can play twenty questions later,” he said instead. “Right now, I want to find my damn lighter and the fireplace, in that order.”
“Fine, I’ll look for it.”
Before he could protest, Cassandra dropped to her knees. She grabbed onto his uninjured leg to balance herself. He heard her hands patting the floor around his boots.
“Cass—”
“Don’t move or you’ll step on my fingers.” She moved between his legs, her shoulders grazing his thighs. “Oops, now you’ve got to open your legs a bit.”
“I’m surprised you’re willing to be so close to—ah, to the ground again.” Reilly’s voice choked as he widened his stance.
“Be nice, Mr. Murdock or I’ll bang your sore knee, this time with my hard head.”
She started searching around his other leg, gently nudging against his fingers where he continued to massage his knee.
He tried to stop himself, but he couldn’t. His hand sank into her wet hair, his fingers curling around to her neck. He nudged her to stand, bending to take her arm and throwing her off balance again.
She reached for him. “Reilly, what are you—”
He took her words into his mouth. His lips claimed hers and a mixture of rain and the salty tang of the ocean clung to her skin. He angled his head, pressing hard against her mouth.
Her fingers curled into the weathered leather of his jacket. She had no choice as he drew her up hard against his body. She responded by rotating her hips into his and a low groan echoed in his ears, drowning out his self-lecture from a moment ago.
He wanted this.
He wanted more.
He wanted to feel her, touch her. Right or wrong, he wanted her.
A light movement he knew was her hands moved across his shoulders, then her fingertips danced at the edge of his jaw. He released his hold on her hair and worked his hands around her waist, past her jacket to push at her sweater until he reached warm skin.
Her fingers delved into his hair, drawing him closer as he skimmed his hands along her ribcage before he pulled away. Her moaned protest vanished when he reached behind her thighs to lift her onto the table. Pushing her backside across the smooth surface, he nudged her knees apart, stepping between them as his hands slipped back under her sweater.
This was wrong, on so many levels.
She was a client. He had a job to do. Cassandra stood for everything he despised. Privilege, wealth, lifestyles of the rich and famous…everything he’d walked away from years ago.
Everything you thought you walked away from.
It didn’t matter what his half brother had told him today. Notwithstanding his newfound wealth, he wasn’t in the same class as the woman he held in his arms. But he couldn’t let her go. He couldn’t stop.
Desperate for air, he allowed Cassandra to break off their kiss. She dragged her lips along his jaw and he raised his head, giving her lips access to the pulsing vein in his neck. Her hands dropped to his chest, then lower. A groan escaped as she found the edge of his tee shirt the same moment his hands settled over her lace-covered breasts. In one movement, he pulled aside the delicate material and captured a nipple with his fingertips.
Cassandra wrapped her legs around his, her heels pressing into the back of his thighs. She pressed against his hardness. His chest filled with fierce need as he realized without clothes he’d be deep inside her at this very moment.
Releasing her breasts, he wrapped one arm around her back. He pushed at her sweater, and she arched her back, her hands grabbing at his arms as he lowered his head. His tongue darted over her skin until he held the budded tip of her breast in his mouth. Her skin tasted sweet and cool against his tongue and a deep shudder hummed through her body, vibrating against his mouth.
Reilly froze.
Way to go, Murdock. Attack a soaking wet, freezing woman in a deserted old house. Never mind forgetting the reason you had to rush her out of town in the first place.
Berating his continued lack of self-control, he reluctantly released the hard bud, moving his now closed lips to the swell of her breast. It took a long moment and a few bottomless breaths before he placed a gentle kiss there and eased away, straightening her clothes.
“W-why did you stop?” Cassandra’s words washed over his skin.
“You’re shivering.”
“Maybe you have that effect on me.”
He ignored the rush of male pride her words created in him. “Try the fact you’re soaking wet—we both are.”
She didn’t respond. Deep, concentrated breaths from the both of them filled the air.
“If you th-think that’s going to get you out of playing our game,” she whispered, “you’re mistaken.”
Reilly blinked when the small flame from his lighter sprang to life. It cast a warm glow over Cassandra’s face. He could see desire shining in her eyes betraying her casual words.
Did she see the same reflected in his? He took another step back into the darkness. “Game?”
A smile came to her lips. “Twenty questions.”
Chapter Twelve
“Yeah right.” Reilly reached for her wrist. “Here, give me the lighter—”
Bright flashes of lightning lit up the room, followed by a booming clap of thunder that shook the house. Reilly tightened his grip when she jumped at the earsplitting noise. He grabbed the lighter and flicked it on again. “You okay?”
Cassandra nodded. “First time it’s done that tonight. I-I thought it was only raining.”
The flashes of lightning didn’t last, but they did give him a quick look at the large living area. Pieces of furniture stood scattered around the ro
om, looking like ghosts draped in drop cloths. A few steps to his left stood the whitewashed brick fireplace he remembered.
“Well, you know New England weather.” Reilly helped her down from the table, making sure to keep plenty of space between them as they made their way to the fireplace. “If you don’t like it, wait a minute.”
“You’ve e-experienced a variety of New England weather?”
“Yes, and that’s question number one.”
“Hey! That’s not fair.” Cassandra clutched tightly to his arm when another round of lightning flashed silently through the windows, followed by a rumble of thunder that echoed through the cavernous house. “Did w-we start yet? Um, do you know w-where you’re going?”
“Yes and yes.” Reilly made his way to the large wooden chest next to the fireplace, once used to hold logs and newspaper. He hoped it still did. “And that’s number two and three.”
Ah, success.
Extinguishing the lighter, he waited for the next round of lightning to grab a couple of aged logs. After making sure the fireplace flue was open, he touched the lighter to the crumbled paper he’d added. Hungry flames devoured the newsprint before moving to lick at the dry timber.
Cassandra’s grip eased on his arm. He turned toward her as she bent close to the fire, hands outstretched. “Don’t get too close, you’ll get burned.”
She looked at him. “Oh, but it feels w-wonderful. Is this something else the Boy Scouts taught you?”
“I was never a Boy Scout.” Yeah, like his stepfather would’ve allowed that. “Question four.”
“Hmmm, I think we have different versions of this game.” She smiled at him. He didn’t think it was possible, but the pressure behind his jeans increased. “But I like yours better. I guess I better think before I open my mouth again.”
Reilly found his gaze fixed on her full lips and his overactive imagination went wild. He shoved his fingers through his wet hair, moving it off his face, wishing he could push the carnal thoughts out of his head.
“Darn, I wish I’d brought my cell phone now.” Cassandra peeled off her wet leather jacket. “I hope my mom doesn’t call me back.”
Her sudden switch of topics threw him. “Call you back?”
Reilly's Promise Page 17
