“I have so much anger inside me,” she confessed to Lynn, with an odd feeling that she had just stretched out a bridge of sorts. “I need to know why me. And right now Brenda is the only person who might have the answer to that.”
Lynn was quiet for a long moment. “I wish you had told me were going. Maybe I could have come with you. Or Sam or one of your brothers. You have endured so much alone. I hate the idea of you going through this by yourself too.”
“I’m not alone,” she assured her. She rose and wandered to the window, restless suddenly. “Hunter came with me.”
“Taylor’s brother? That Hunter?”
“Yes.”
There was another awkward silence then a long, drawn out “Ohhhh.”
Kate flushed at the speculation she heard in Lynn’s voice but didn’t correct her.
“Have you spoken to her yet? To this Brenda person?”
Kate gazed out at the courtyard below. Her room faced the swimming pool and the pool lights glowed green in the night.
“No. We’re only in Jacksonville. The last I heard of Brenda, she was in Miami so that’s where we’ve decided to start. We should be there tomorrow. I believe she had a sister there we’re going to try to contact but for all I know, this is a wild goose chase. She’s probably halfway across the country.”
Wouldn’t she feel horrible if, after all this effort and energy, they couldn’t find Brenda at all? She would be mortified if she’d dragged Hunter all this way for nothing.
“Did you talk to Gage about what you’re doing?” Lynn asked.
Kate thought of her oldest brother, the FBI agent. Of all the members of her newly discovered family, she found Gage hardest to read. Sam, her father, seemed quiet and steady. He worked with his hands but he still had a bright mind and a deep calmness about him.
Lynn was open and sincere, eager for Kate to love her.
She knew it wouldn’t be hard to care for Wyatt—he was her best friend’s husband now and she would have loved him for that alone, but he had earned a special place in her heart for helping to free Hunter.
Gage, though, was still a mystery to her. He was abrupt to the point of reticence but he obviously adored his new wife and daughters, and Kate had seen moments of great sweetness between the four of them.
Kate knew Gage and Wyatt had never given up finding her and she had learned enough about the FBI agent in the past month to guess that her disappearance probably contributed at least in part to his career choice.
“No,” she said now to Lynn. “I didn’t talk to anyone but Hunter.”
“Your case is still technically open. Gage may have some information on this woman’s whereabouts.”
Of all the members of her family, he had been the one most interested in details about her childhood as Katie Golightly and the woman she had believed to be her mother.
“Do you think he’s still working the case?”
Her mother sighed. “If I know my oldest son, I have no doubt whatsoever. Even though we’ve found you again, Gage won’t be able to rest until he finds out why you were taken and by whom.”
Maybe she was more like her brother than she thought. “I need that too. That’s why we’re here.”
“I’ll talk to Gage. He may have some information that could be helpful to you.”
“Thank you.”
Kate didn’t know what to say after that. She hated this distance, this awkwardness she always felt when talking to Lynn, and wondered if it would ever ease.
“I’m so glad I finally reached you,” Lynn said after moment. “I know it’s silly but I’ll sleep easier tonight. Will you forgive me for panicking?”
“Of course.”
They said their goodbyes, with Lynn’s repeated promise to talk to Gage, then Kate hung up her phone. She set it carefully on the dresser, then opened the sliding doors to the small terrace of her room, suddenly desperate for air.
The night was lovely, clear and comfortable. Kate wandered to the railing, gazing out at the garden around the pool. Though still just off the freeway, this was a better scale of hotel than they’d stayed in yet on this journey, with an extravagant pool and lush landscaping, complete with twinkling little Christmas lights in the palm trees.
She and Brenda never would have stayed in a place like this. Their accommodations were usually the kind of scary, hole-in-the-wall motel that had shifty-eyed clerks, cardboard-thin walls and bedsprings that creaked.
Kate would usually make a bed for herself on the bathroom floor and curl up while Brenda entertained a gentleman friend in the other room or would pass out on the bed.
Most of the time, she doubted whether Brenda knew—or cared—that Kate was even there.
Kate thought of Lynn McKinnon’s loving concern, and the stark contrast between what should have been and what was brought those tears she had been fighting to the surface again. This time she couldn’t stop them and they burst free.
She stood there for a long time with the moist breeze eddying around her and tears trickling down her cheeks.
She didn’t realize she was no longer alone until Hunter spoke from the balcony next to hers.
“In prison, nights were the worst. During the day you could wear a facade of indifference. But at night we were all locked into our cells, alone with only the guilt to taunt and torment us. Those of us who didn’t have guilt had nothing left but our fear.”
“I’m sorry.” She sniffled, embarrassed at herself for letting her emotions out.
“Don’t be. Nothing wrong with crying.”
“It’s either cry or scream right now. And I’m afraid if I start screaming, I won’t stop. I don’t know what to do with this anger. I can lock it away for long stretches of time but sometimes no matter how hard I try to keep it contained my hate and bitterness bursts free and I can’t think about anything else.”
“Are you angry? Or are you just hurting?”
She gave a ragged-sounding laugh. “Both.”
Only about two feet separated their terraces. Before Kate realized what he intended, Hunter grabbed his railing and swung his body over to her terrace with an agility that left her blinking.
It was a crazy thing to do, he thought, but he couldn’t bear her crying over there by herself. He leaned with her on the railing, gazing out at the twinkling palm trees and the bougainvillea and the deep green of the pool lights.
The cool breeze lifted his hair and Hunter thought how odd it was that three days earlier they had stood together on the deck of his canyon home while he’d watched her catch snowflakes on her tongue.
“What let it out this time?” he asked quietly. “Your hurt or anger or whatever it is?”
In the moonlight, he saw her chin quiver a little but she quickly straightened it out again.
“Lynn McKinnon just called me. My mother.” Her laugh was short and bitter. “My mother. I can’t even say the word. The woman has loved me for twenty-six years—never gave up hope of finding me again—and I can’t even do her the courtesy of calling her by her rightful title. She’s a stranger to me. A stranger I seem to be doing my damnedest to keep at arm’s length.”
“Give yourself time. You can’t expect to love the McKinnons as if you spent your whole life with them. They understand that. From what I’ve seen of them, they’re decent people. I’m sure they’ll give you whatever space you need until you’re comfortable with them.”
“What if that day never comes?”
He couldn’t bear the murky pain in her eyes, the heartache threading through her voice. Though he knew it wasn’t the wisest of ideas, he reached for her.
She was stiff with surprise for just a moment before she sighed and settled against him, small and fragile.
“It will,” he murmured. “And if you can never love the McKinnons as the daughter and sister they lost, you can at least learn to care about them as good, kind people with your best interests at heart.”
She said nothing, only settled closer against him. Hunter’s arm
s tightened and he was stunned by the tenderness welling up inside him.
He cleared his throat and continued. “You didn’t have them for a big part of your life and that really stinks. But you have them now. That has to count for something, doesn’t it? It’s more than you had two months ago, more than a lot of people will ever have.”
She rested her cheek against his chest, where he was certain she could hear his heart pounding away. “You’re right. Intellectually I know you’re right. I feel horribly guilty that I can’t just lighten up and accept that my life has suddenly taken a bizarre turn. Just be grateful for what I have. But my time with Brenda and…and what came after was awful. Something no child should have to live through. Talking with Lynn just made me contrast what those early years should have been like with the ugly reality.”
“I’m sorry, Kate. I wish I could change it for you.”
“Contrary to what you must think right now after I just blubbered all over you, this trip is helping. Even if we never find Brenda, being away from the situation has given me a little perspective.”
She lifted her face, tearstained but heartbreakingly beautiful in the moonlight. “I think you’ve got a brilliant future in the damsel-rescuing business.”
He mustered a smile, even though it took every ounce of strength he possessed not to kiss her.
Though he was definitely rusty at it, he tried a joke. “Thanks. We’re a full-service operation. Finder of lost souls, chauffeur of stranded crime victims, and shoulder to cry on. It’s all part of the package.”
She smiled and hugged him tighter and Hunter had to clamp his teeth together to hold in his moan of sheer wonder at how good it felt to hold this warm, soft woman.
“Thank you, on all counts,” she murmured. “You’re very good at what you do.”
The pay might be lousy but the benefits sure as hell rocked, he thought.
After a moment, he tried to carefully extricate himself from her arms before he embarrassed both of them by enjoying her touch a little too much, but it was like trying to slip out of a warm feather bed on a cold January morning.
He managed to pull one arm away but the other one, curved around her shoulders, refused to budge. While he was trying to remind it who was boss, Kate lifted her face to his again.
In the moonlight, her eyes looked fathomless, deep pools of emotions he couldn’t even begin to guess at. She studied him for several heartbeats, then drew in a deep breath, which unfortunately had the side effect of lifting her breasts in even closer contact to his chest. He was trying to keep control and remove the other arm when she spoke, her voice low, throaty.
“Would you kiss me again?”
Every synapse snapped to attention and blood gushed to his groin. “I, uh, don’t think that’s a very good idea right now.”
She gazed at him. “Why not?”
He decided he had no option left but stark honesty. “I haven’t been with a woman in three years, Kate. If I kiss you right now, I’m afraid I’ll eat you alive.”
She appeared to digest his words for a long moment, then she smiled. “And you see this as a problem because…?”
CHAPTER 10
For the space of about two heartbeats, Hunter managed to resist that look in her eyes, the invitation in her voice, then with a groan he surrendered and dragged her against him, his mouth descending with raw, unbridled hunger.
He wasn’t gentle. He swept his tongue inside her mouth and pressed her hard against his erection, his body aching with need.
She made a low sound he took for arousal and wrapped her arms around him, her mouth warm and welcoming.
They stood on the balcony locked together for a long time, mouths and bodies tangled together.
All his pent-up need seemed to explode as he kissed her, roaring through him like a wildfire in high winds.
Finally he dragged his mouth away. “We’re going to put on a hell of a show if we don’t go inside.”
She blinked several times, color stealing over her cheekbones. “Right. You’re right.”
With hands that fumbled, she slid open the terrace door and led the way into her hotel room. He was afraid to say anything, afraid she might change her mind, but she kept her hand tucked in his while she slid the door shut and straightened the curtains.
When she was done, she turned back to him, her mouth swollen but her eyes bright with desire and something else he couldn’t identify.
He made a low, raw sound and pulled her against him, his mouth finding hers again.
He had never been so aroused, so ravenous for a woman’s touch. When she slid her hands inside his shirt to spread those small, elegant fingers across the muscles of his back, he shivered.
He ached to touch her, to fill his hands with feminine flesh, but he felt strangely paralyzed, afraid when he did he would lose whatever thin hold he had on his tenuous control.
He brought his hand to her rib cage, just under the cotton of her shirt, but couldn’t seem to move it farther. Her skin was incredible, soft and warm and sweetly scented, and he could feel her small, delicate ribs move with each breath.
“Touch me,” she commanded softly against his mouth.
His stomach twirling with anticipation, he slid his thumbs up, up until they brushed the undersides of her breasts through the fabric of her bra.
This time she was the one who shivered, a delicate, erotic tremor. He closed his eyes, overwhelmed by the sensations pouring over him. He felt like a randy teenager again, all raging hormones and fumbling hands and stunned disbelief that she was actually letting him go so far.
“Funny thing about three years of celibacy,” he said hoarsely. “I feel like this is the first time I’ve ever done this.”
“I know just what you mean,” she murmured, a small smile curving her lips.
He puzzled over that remark but didn’t have the brain power to figure it out as she arched against his hands. He had to touch her. Really touch her.
To his vast relief, she wore a front-clasp bra and it only took him a moment to work the tricky thing. At least he hadn’t forgotten that particular skill. An instant later his fingers were brushing against warm, soft flesh.
Her breath came in short little gasps as he spent what seemed like hours relearning the feel of a woman’s body.
Later he had no conscious memory of slipping off her shirt. One moment it was there, the next she stood before him wearing only her unhooked bra hanging free.
She had small, high breasts, her nipples dark against her creamy skin and he devoured the sight as long as he could stand without touching her again.
With nothing in the way now, he lowered his mouth to the slope of first one breast and then the other, then he drew one taut nipple into his mouth. She smelled of hotel soap and vanilla sugar and woman and he couldn’t get enough.
She let out a low, ragged sound and buried her hands in his hair while he savored the incredible wonder of exploring a woman’s body again.
Not just any woman, he thought. He had had a dozen chances or more since his release for meaningless sex, but he had wanted none of those women. Only Kate, with her big eyes and her soft heart, made him almost frantic with need.
He was going to explode, right now, he thought. His arousal jutted against the fabric of his Levi’s and all he could think about was coming inside her.
Driven by sudden urgency, he yanked his own shirt over his head, then went to work on the metal buttons of her jeans. To his embarrassment, though, his hands were trembling too hard to work them free, and finally her hands stopped his increasingly frustrated efforts.
“Here. Let me.”
Seconds later she slid out of her jeans and her panties, until she lay before him on the bed, an exquisite, naked offering.
He couldn’t breathe, could only stare, his blood racing and a wild surge of emotion in his chest.
“I’d forgotten how beautiful a woman’s body could be,” he said hoarsely. “The hollows and curves and dark places. Do you mind
if I just stand here for a moment?”
She blinked, her eyes wide. “I…no. Of course not.”
Kate tried not to feel self-conscious as he devoured her with hot and hungry eyes. He had warned her he would eat her alive. She just hadn’t expected him to do it with his eyes.
He was the beautiful one, she thought, all muscles and sculpted strength. He had always had a powerful body but his years in prison had turned him into something hard and dangerous.
Finally he slipped out of his jeans, then pulled something out of his wallet and tossed it onto the bedside table.
At the sight of that square metallic packet, Kate’s insides twitched with a combination of nerves and anticipation.
“You’re prepared.”
She thought his short laugh had a layer of self-mockery to it. “I bought a jumbo pack when I got out but they’ve been gathering dust for the last month.”
“Why? I’m sure you’ve had women banging down your door for the chance to, um, bang down your door.”
At last he joined her on the bed and she almost forgot the question when he kissed her again.
“I don’t know why,” he admitted. “I wanted to but I couldn’t manage to work up the enthusiasm—or anything else—for anybody. Until you walked out onto that deck three nights ago.”
His words slid through her like an intimate caress and her whole body seemed to catch fire.
He kissed her, a slow, deep mating of tongue and mouth. She wrapped her arms around him, her love for him a heavy weight in her chest.
She was doomed to heartbreak with this man. She knew it as surely as she knew the names of every muscle and tendon his mouth and hands explored, but she wouldn’t waste this moment worrying about the future.
Right now she would savor this moment and add it to her precious store of memories.
He kissed her deeply, intensely, as if to memorize each centimeter of her mouth, until she was weak and trembling. After years of second and third dates—and nothing more—she had become a bit of a connoisseur of kissing. She had never experienced this wild desperation, the edginess of his mouth on hers, as if he were afraid this was his last kiss and he wanted to make it matter.
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