Shroud of Fog: (A Cape Trouble Romantic Suspense Novel)

by Johnson, Janice Kay

  “After the break-in at your aunt’s?” The furrows in his forehead had deepened. “Maybe.” He muttered something under his breath. “Yeah. I think it’s a real possibility, if we can’t figure out what he’s after.”

  Even as she absorbed the possibility that she really was in danger, Sophie’s instinct was to downplay the whole situation. “You must have been getting bored with your job,” she said lightly.

  He set the laptop onto the coffee table and straightened. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “Well, you’re throwing yourself into this heart and soul. Guarding me with your life. Even listening to my sad story.” She tacked that on as if his listening was a minor kindness, when really being able to talk to him and knowing he believed her had changed something deep inside her.

  What am I doing? she wondered in sudden panic. Am I trying to make this personal?

  Heaven help her…she was.

  His eyes had narrowed slightly. “Listening to you doesn’t fall under my job description. You know that, don’t you, Sophie?”

  She couldn’t seem to look away from him. “No,” she whispered. “I can’t help but wonder whether I’m a nuisance, or…” She couldn’t make herself finish.

  “You mean, how I feel about you.”

  “I suppose.” She was reduced to mumbling. How pathetic.

  For a long time, they only stared at each other. Then one side of his mouth lifted in a very wry smile. “You scare me, Sophie. That’s how I feel.”

  She gaped.

  “Wanting you the way I do isn’t healthy for me. I like sex. But anything more than that— I don’t know if I can do it, okay?” He was scowling. “But you make me—” He broke off. “Crap. What am I doing?”

  He was afraid of her. Of how he felt about her.

  “I’m scared of you, too,” she said. Suddenly it was easy to say. Whether it was wise, she didn’t know. “That’s why…”

  “You’ve been giving me the cold shoulder.”

  Her head bobbed.

  In a matter of seconds, he’d gotten to his feet and crossed the small room until he stood right beside her chair, his hand outheld. “Sophie,” he said roughly, just as he had the day at the beach.

  She couldn’t resist, any more than she’d been able to then. She took his hand, and let him pull her to her feet.

  Her lips were forming his name when his mouth closed over hers, silencing her.

  CHAPTER TEN

  After she said that, there wasn’t anything Daniel could have done to stop himself from kissing her.

  I’m scared of you, too.

  Oh, man. Later, he was going to regret this. Bad enough that he was freaked about what he felt for her. It was worse that she was admitting to feeling something above and beyond casual lust and liking for him. He tried not to raise expectations and leave women hurt. He’d felt like a shit the few times he had.

  All he knew, in this desperate surge of need, was that Sophie was different.

  He loved her body, leggy and slender but soft in the right places. The feel of her hands kneading his shoulders was indescribable. Her taste was her own, and her tongue met his eagerly. He took her mouth in long, drugging kisses that had her rising on tiptoe to press against him.

  His fingers dove into her hair, cool and a little damp from the quick shower she’d taken before dinner. Even the shape of her skull fit his hand perfectly. With his other hand he squeezed her butt and lifted her higher, hungry to cradle his erection between her legs instead of against her belly.

  She made little noises when he wrenched his mouth from hers so that he could nibble her earlobe, press open-mouthed kisses down the long, pure line of her throat, lick her skin where her pulse beat at the base. When she let go of his shoulders so she could slip her hands beneath his T-shirt, a groan escaped him, too.

  “God, I want you.” He couldn’t help sounding raw, and as desperate as he felt. But he lifted his head and looked at her, needing to know she was really okay with this. She was so damn beautiful, with that fine-textured skin and the perfect oval of her face. Her lips were a little swollen, her eyes dazed.

  She blinked a couple of times, then said what he needed to hear. A simple, “Yes.”

  “Bedroom,” he said urgently, and when she nodded he swept her down the hall, tempted for the first time in his life to lift a woman in his arms and carry her.

  He was shocked to have an urge so primitive, but the jolt wasn’t strong enough to make him so much as hesitate, not when Sophie slipped into the bedroom ahead of him and turned to face him, her eyes luminous. He was distantly aware that the bed had those tall posts and some kind of lacy canopy. The bedding looked white and pillowy. Too soft. Having already ripped his T-shirt over his head, he dropped it and pulled back the bedcover. Then he reached for the hem of Sophie’s shirt. Never looking away from him, she raised her arms willingly, wriggling a little to help. The sight of her slender, pale torso and the swell of flesh above a skimpy, leaf-green bra made more of his blood head south. His hands were shaking when he pulled her close and dealt with the catch in back.

  He bent to rest his forehead against hers for a moment, struggling to regain some self-control. He had to make this good for her.

  His effort was doomed by her strong hands exploring the contours of his back. She did some more kneading, then her fingertips danced down his spine to the waistband of his jeans, sliding around to the front where she seemed to enjoy the texture of the thin line of hair that led down his belly and beneath the zipper. He was afraid he’d explode if she let her hands go any lower.

  To prevent it, he reached for the button at her waist, and in short order peeled her jeans and panties down those amazing legs. He crouched in front of her to ease them over her feet as she let the flip-flops fall to the floor, one by one.

  He wrapped his hands around her ankles, stroking his way upward, then dropped to his knees and nuzzled the springy, already damp hair at the juncture of her thighs.

  She grabbed for his head. “Daniel—!”

  Ignoring what might have been a protest, he licked between the folds, tasting the salty essence of woman, loving the way her whole body jerked. Keeping his tongue and lips soft, non-aggressive, he reveled in the way that, after the first protest, her thigh muscles went lax and she seemed to be using her grip in his hair to hold her up instead of control him.

  She kept saying his name, in between a few moans and some squeaks. Part of him wanted to stay here on his knees until she came, but his own increasing urgency wouldn’t let him. He abruptly surged to his feet, lifting her onto the bed where she sprawled, her expression stunned and her knees spread wantonly wide.

  “Beautiful,” he said thickly, as he groped for a condom and then shed his jeans. He had a hell of a time getting that damn condom on. More warning bells rang; he’d never been so turned on before, his hands shook.

  Didn’t care. Nothing was stopping him now. Sure as hell not Sophie, who was reaching for him eagerly as he came down on her, his mouth claiming hers. He wanted to kiss and suckle her breasts. He wanted a lot of things, but the tip of his penis was pressed against her wet, slick opening, and all he could do was make a hoarse sound and press forward. She whimpered and lifted her hips to help accommodate him, and damn this felt better than anything ever had in his life. He buried himself deep, pulled out and did it again. They caught a rhythm immediately. Her hands gripped him frantically, and he closed his teeth on her neck as he felt her first spasms grip him.

  And then he let himself go, driving deep, over and over, as some kind of madness blinded him to anything but the pleasure of her body and the sounds she made and the freight train of pleasure that thundered through him.

  In the end, he could do nothing but come down heavily on her, knowing he was crushing her but unable to make his body obey any commands.

  She wrapped her arms around him and held on so tight, he knew she didn’t mind.

  *****

  Eventually, with a grunt
Daniel rolled sideways, but he tucked her against him as if he didn’t want to lose contact with her. Sophie lay with her head on his shoulder and tried to relearn how to breathe. She was so stunned, it was awhile before she could feel much else.

  She’d have sworn that she had enjoyed sex before – but it hadn’t been anything like this.

  Because I never felt anything for any man like I do for this one. For Daniel.

  Scary was the right word. She’d known him for – what? – a week? Ridiculous.

  She tried to convince herself that he was better at lovemaking than the few men she’d shared her bed with before. It was a matter of mechanics, that’s all. Oral sex, for example: she had never especially liked it. She knew she’d made all kinds of sounds while her knees gave way. Probably she should be embarrassed. She’d never been noisy before, either.

  Of course, Daniel had done a fair share of groaning, too, she remembered. Sophie rubbed her cheek against him, felt his muscles tense and wondered what he was thinking.

  His chest vibrated and she lifted her head, trying to see his face. “Are you laughing?”

  “Yeah. God. I think so.” His big hand gently stroked her hair back from her face, and she saw that he had a rueful curve to his mouth even as his eyes were navy dark and serious.

  “Should I be insulted?”

  “No.” He tugged her closer, so he could kiss her, the merest brush of lips and nibble, a nuzzle that flooded her chest with warmth. “I was laughing,” he said in a low rumble, “because, man, I thought I knew what scared was, but I didn’t.”

  As if it were an electric shock, Sophie thought, Dear God, he’s right. What she’d felt before was wariness, that’s all. A sort of presentiment cautioning her that this man could hurt her. Now…heaven help her, now she knew.

  She was in love with Daniel Colburn, and discovered it felt as if she’d tiptoed to the edge and was peering into a bottomless abyss. She knew what it was like to love someone and have that person gone in an instant. She’d never been sure she had it in her to rely on anyone like that again.

  “It’s…not exactly funny,” she mumbled.

  “You gotta laugh in the face of danger.”

  She punched his chest, unable to get much force behind it. “Especially if you’re a manly man who wears a badge and gun on the job.”

  “Right.” The amusement had returned to his voice, although she wasn’t sure it had been there when he said that about laughing in the face of danger.

  “I should be working on the auction.” But she couldn’t seem to make herself move. She could feel the hard, steady beat of Daniel’s heart under her hand, which was splayed on his chest. The texture of hair beneath her hand felt interesting, too. And if she moved, just a little, she could rub her cheek on his small, brown nipple. Or turn her head a bit and lick it.

  What she should do was get up and get dressed.

  “Don’t,” he said.

  Sophie had to think back to what she’d said.

  “Why?”

  “You deserve a few hours off.” He tilted his head to smile at her. “Because I think my body is recovering with remarkable speed. And, you know, there’s a lot I wanted to do to you and didn’t get around to.”

  “That’s not my fault,” she protested.

  “Yeah.” He rolled so that she was suddenly on her back and he was looming over her. There was a smile in his voice and his eyes. “It’s totally your fault. But, see, there’s such a thing as a do-over, and I get to take my time.”

  “Do you.” She sounded sultry, probably for the first time in her life. She flattened her hand on his chest and felt the hard nub of his nipple against her palm. She gently rotated her hand. “So long as I can take my time, too.”

  “Why not?” Before she could stop him, he’d slid lower in the bed so that he could kiss first one breast, then the other.

  She moaned and arched. His mouth clamped over her breast and he sucked strongly.

  Neither of them took their time, and she, for one, didn’t care.

  *****

  The familiar ring of Daniel’s phone pulled him from sleep. It sounded muffled, which puzzled him. He slitted his eyes open and was immediately disoriented. Enough light fell through the window, he knew it wasn’t where it ought to be. The bed didn’t feel right, either, and— Someone else’s hair tickled his face. The someone was snuggled up tight to him.

  Sophie. The best sex of my life. God help him, he remembered.

  The telephone.

  He eased her off him and got out of bed as carefully as possible, then fumbled around on the floor until he located his pants. The phone had quit ringing by the time he got his hands on it, but he carried it out of the bedroom and into the living room of the small cottage, then checked the number and touched reply.

  “Yeah, what is it?”

  “We’ve got a kid missing, chief.” The caller was Aaron Kreiger, the young officer on nights this month. “The family was staying at the Sea ’N Surf. The mother is hysterical.”

  “How old is the kid?”

  “Eight. A girl.”

  “Okay, I’m on my way,” he said, still keeping his voice down. But by the time he got back to the bedroom to try to locate the rest of his scattered garments and shoes, Sophie had turned on the bedside lamp.

  She was sitting up, but holding the covers to her breasts. “Is something wrong?”

  “Missing kid,” he said. “I’ve got to go.” But, damn, looking at her with her hair tousled and her cheeks pink and her shoulders bare, he wanted only to get back in that bed with her.

  With an unhappy grunt, he pulled on his knit boxers followed by his jeans. Socks… He spotted one, and finally found the other half hidden beneath the bed. His eye caught on the digital clock, which claimed it wasn’t even midnight. He guessed that might be accurate; he and Sophie had been in bed so early, the sun hadn’t even set.

  Once he sat on the edge of the bed to put on his shoes and socks, she didn’t help matters by kneeling behind him and massaging his shoulders. When her thumbs dug into taut muscles beside his shoulder blades, he groaned and said, “You’re making this hard.”

  “Literally?” she teased, but backed off.

  He grimaced and had to adjust himself as he stood, picked his shirt up off the floor and pulled it on over his head.

  “Walk me to the door and lock up behind me,” he ordered, trying not to look as she slipped out of bed, her body gloriously naked before she found a robe in the closet and put it on. While she was doing that, he fastened his badge to his waistband and checked his weapon.

  At the front door, she looked at him somberly. “I hope this isn’t something awful.”

  “Yeah, me, too.” Dealing with tragedies that involved children was the worst part of his job. It was one reason, he knew, that Sophie’s history had hit him so hard.

  She rose on tiptoe and kissed him lightly, then gave him a little push. “Go.”

  “Yeah. Shit,” he said, suddenly remembering. “All the stuff is still here.”

  “It’s safer here than in the trunk of your car.”

  He frowned. “Maybe. Yeah, okay. I’m going. Make sure the French doors are locked, too.”

  “I will.”

  He kissed her, hard, then went.

  During the short drive to Schooner Street, then north along the waterfront to the outskirts of town, Daniel tried hard not to think about what had happened tonight.

  No, he was okay thinking about what happened – what man didn’t like to think about a beautiful woman and sex? The avoidance part had to do with his own feelings.

  Avoiding was good, he decided. These emotions had to be post-coital bliss. And, damn it, even that much was thinking about the unthinkable, and he wasn’t going to do it anymore.

  Fortunately, he arrived at the Sun ’N Surf, and the lights blazing from a unit at the end were enough to recall him to what mattered right now: finding a lost child.

  The Sun ’N Surf was a relatively low-rent m
otel that was nonetheless clean and ideal for families. Each room had a kitchenette, and all of them were strung along a low bluff above the beach. Really, it was a surprise some hotel chain hadn’t bought out the owners years ago, razed the existing building and erected something a lot fancier. He would be sorry to see that happen. The few times he could remember he and his mother going on vacation, this was exactly the kind of place they’d stayed. He had loved those rare weeks at the beach or in the mountains.

  He parked beside the marked city police car that sat right in front of the brightly lit unit. He’d barely gotten out when he heard a woman’s sobs. Before he reached the door, Kreider, lanky and absurdly young in his blue uniform, came around the end of the building. Relief flooded his face at the sight of his boss.

  “I just went down to the beach, but it’s so damn dark. Even with the flashlight, it was hard to see anything.”

  “Wake up everybody in the department. Get them down here. Let me talk to the parents before I call in Search and Rescue.”

  A harried looking man who was hovering just inside the room, the night manager appeared to be as relieved to see him as Officer Kreider had been. The mother sat on the edge of the bed weeping, while a little boy pressed against her making whimpering sounds.

  The manager gestured toward the sliding glass doors on the ocean side of the room. “The father is out on the beach.”

  “What can you tell me?”

  It was Mom who had woken up and had to go to the bathroom. The manager glanced at his watch. “Maybe forty-five minutes ago?” he said uncertainly. As she came out of the bathroom, the band of light had fallen across the pull-out bed her children were sleeping in. She’d seen that the daughter wasn’t in it.

  Daniel managed to get her attention long enough to find out that they’d all gone to bed about ten o’clock. She admitted to conking out immediately and knew her husband had, too. They’d driven over from Salem that morning, romped on the beach all afternoon, gone out to dinner and played board games the rest of the evening. She’d have sworn they were all exhausted. No, she insisted, there hadn’t been any family quarrels, the kind that would have the daughter deciding to run away.