By the time he coaxed her into two more climaxes, he was nearly blind with need himself. The smell of Teddy, the taste, the sounds she made were driving him wild. He couldn’t get enough of her.
She must have felt the same way, for she snapped open the top of his jeans and yanked down the zipper. He groaned with relief as she freed him from the confines, curling her hand around him as he realized—
“No, wait.” Oh God, hardest thing he ever had to do. He grabbed her hand and pulled it away then eased from the bed. “Condom,” he managed, trying desperately to remember where he’d put them…
In his Jeep. Packed away.
Half a mile distant. In a raging thunderstorm.
He wanted to weep.
But Teddy, his Teddy, his smart, quick-thinking, and fast-talking—and wildly sexy—Teddy, was on the move. He gritted his teeth when he saw the enticing bounce of her breasts as she bounded from the bed.
“Wait here,” she said, and, praise God, she was back in seconds—with a string of familiar, flat plastic packets flapping from her hand.
He didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry, because there were at least five of them.
Then he didn’t pay attention to anything at all but the way her fingers were teasing as she rolled on the condom, and that he was skimming her conveniently stretchy pants down over her hips, and finally, they were skin to skin.
“Oh, God,” he murmured as they slid together, her curves fitting sweetly against him. She was warm and soft and smelled like perfection.
“Oscar,” she said a little desperately when he reached down between them to touch her again, “I want you…now, please. Now.”
She didn’t have to ask twice, and it was only another instant of shifting and fumbling, and then… Oh. Yes.
The sweet slide. Heaven.
Home.
They moved together, with him trying to keep it slow and easy and Teddy urging him on, demanding more and faster and all of him.
And then the finish.
Heaven.
Home.
Sixteen
Mmmmm.
Teddy was already smiling before she opened her eyes. But when she saw the smooth, solid corner of Oscar’s shoulder, and the stretch of his half-tanned arm angling from the bedclothes right next to her, she closed her eyes again in blissful memory.
What a glorious way to wake up.
What a glorious way to spend the night, with a thunderstorm thrashing about around them. Of course, they’d done quite a bit of thrashing on their own.
Smiling again at the memory, she snuggled a little closer to Oscar. The morning was chilly, though the rain had stopped sometime around dawn, and the sun shone happily through the window.
A minute later, she realized she had to pee. And then she remembered there was no power—no water, no toilet. But he’d shown her how to use a bucket to flush the loo, as he’d called it—making her hoot at the random Britishism—so she knew it wasn’t impossible.
Except that she’d need to fill the bucket first.
With a disgusted groan over her body’s basic morning needs, she slithered reluctantly out of bed and pulled on the first item of clothing she found—Oscar’s shirt.
Mmm. Soft. And it smelled good. Like him.
When she passed the bathroom on the way outside to get water, she saw a pail and two large pots sitting on the floor. All were filled with water. She grinned, and her heart melted even more. Because obviously Oscar had set that up last night while she was sleeping.
He had to have left their cozy bed and gone out into the pouring rain to fill all three vessels from the water pump. What a guy.
And she was definitely, positively over the moon about him. She was toast.
When she slipped back into bed, he woke enough to draw her into a snug embrace against his warm body.
“We’ve still got two left,” she murmured, licking his ear then nibbling on its lobe.
His eyes popped open. “Two?” He grinned, for she knew he was remembering the strip of condoms she’d retrieved last night. “I guess we’d better get to finishing them off,” he said, and she giggled against his cheek.
“I like the way you think.”
And then all thoughts of humor fled when he rolled on top of her.
Sometime later—much, much later—they found it necessary to forage for something to eat.
And to refill the water buckets.
“I’ll get them refilled, then the generator hooked up and started,” Oscar said while Teddy did her best to toast bread over the gas flame.
It turned out pretty well, and she spread four pieces with peanut butter, then drizzled them with honey. She was just cutting up an apple when Oscar came in on his second trip with water pails.
“Eat first, then the generator. You probably need to replenish after all that activity last night,” she added with a sly smile. “I even made tea by boiling water in a pan—though I didn’t check the temperature. Don’t tell Maxine or Orbra.”
“Your secret’s safe with me.” He sat down and began to dunk the teabag up and down in his mug. “There are quite a few branches down outside, and some debris too, probably blown in from the lake.”
After their breakfast, Teddy went with him to survey the damage. While he messed with the generator, she walked around the cottage. This was the first time she’d been outside since being startled away from the room behind the rosebush last night.
As she came around the side of the lighthouse toward the lake, she saw several branches on the ground. And something else that had her hurrying over to investigate.
It was a small electronic device in a zippered plastic bag. Just sitting in the middle of the ground between the lighthouse and a maple sapling.
The hair on the back of her neck prickled because she knew it wasn’t hers, and why would Oscar have something like this outside (though he would for certain have wrapped it in plastic)? It couldn’t have been blown in from the lake—it was too far from the beach and too heavy to have come that far.
Could someone have dropped it last night? It had to have been last night, because she’d been standing over here and walking all around the area yesterday before the storm and would have seen it then.
She picked up the bag and began to examine its contents, then realized the device was a sort of recorder. She pushed “play” then fumbled and nearly dropped the thing when a horrific, bloodcurdling scream—a very familiar one—filled the air.
“Oh my God,” she said, frantically pushing the “stop” button as Oscar came bolting around the cottage.
“Teddy! What— Are you all right?”
She stared at the recorder, then looked up. Because the sound had come from slightly above her.
Oscar took the recorder from her grip as, mouth set in an unhappy line, she scanned the nearby tree and the lines of the cottage and lighthouse. He pushed the button, and she jumped when the scream once more filled the air.
They looked at each other.
“Well, what the hell,” he said. “This puts a whole new spin on the situation.”
Understatement.
“I think the speaker is up there,” she said, pointing to a small black square sitting beneath a shadowy eave. “Wow.”
She could hardly comprehend the situation.
“Someone definitely doesn’t want us around here,” Oscar said, still examining the recorder. “They’ve gone to a lot of trouble to scare us off. There’s nothing on this device that gives any indication who it belongs to—except maybe it could be traced by the serial number. This is a pretty solid piece of equipment. Small and light, and good quality. Not cheap. Must’ve gotten blown down from wherever it was hidden.” He looked at her. “Come to think of it, I didn’t hear the scream last night. Did you?”
She gave him a wan smile. “No. I was pretty distracted. But I’ll bet it didn’t go off because it got blown to the ground.”
He slid an arm around her and tugged her close. “I’m sorry, Teddy.”
&nbs
p; “What are you sorry about?” she asked, resting her head on his shoulder and curving her arm around his taut waist. She needed his solidness right at the moment. “Sorry that I was distracted last night?” She gave him a cheeky grin that she didn’t really feel.
It had been bad enough that someone broke into the cottage and destroyed their stuff, but to know that whoever it was—because they had to be the same people who’d planted the recording, didn’t they?—had had a long-term plan was disconcerting.
He gave a short laugh and squeezed her tight. “Definitely not sorry about that. I’m sorry that it wasn’t a ghost—and that it’s definitely mortal beings who have been fucking around with us. I mean, you were pretty excited about the ghost.” He planted a kiss on the top of her head.
She grimaced. “Well, all things considered, I’d much rather deal with a supernatural element than a villainous mortal. I think they’re more dangerous. After all, I write about them.”
When Oscar didn’t respond, she knew he agreed and was probably trying not to worry her.
“But what about the green thing?” she said a few minutes later, when they sat down on the front porch to sort things out. Her mind was finally beginning to work again.
“A projection of some sort, of course,” Oscar replied. He’d pulled out his phone to call Joe Cap, but set it aside. “If we keep looking, I’m sure we’ll find the projector.”
Teddy frowned, then as he picked up the phone, she put her hand out to stop him. “But we saw the green thing at two different places. And it looked different each time. One time it was bluish-green—the first time—and the second time it was puke green.”
Oscar shrugged, but left the phone next to him. “They obviously made adjustments. Think about it, Teddy—the scream was every night at one thirty, like clockwork. The recorder must have been on a timer. It was always at the same time, except the night they broke in.
“That night, the scream was early—and the green thing was projected so we could see it from the ground as we returned from the hot springs. They planned it that way so the break-in would be connected and seem like it was part of the supernatural element. They must have seen us in town, maybe, or heard that we were there—as we’ve learned, everyone knows everything in Wicks Hollow—and they came out here to stage the break-in and then the ghostly apparition. Maybe we got back too soon, or maybe they just intended to do it after we went to sleep—but when we left to go to the hot spring, they took advantage of the fact.”
Teddy pursed her lips and thought some more. “Yes, that makes sense. They upped their game that night.” Then she shivered and looked around. “They must have seen us leave to go to the pool. They must have been watching from somewhere.”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
“But…that first night. When we were on top of the lighthouse. There was no way anyone could have expected us to go up there. How would they have known to project the image up there? And besides, it—well, it seemed really real. It got so cold.”
Oscar was shaking his head. “I hate to say it, but it’s possible the place could be bugged—or, at least, maybe they were just lurking around here somewhere and heard us talking on the porch.”
Teddy did not like the thought of being spied on all the time. It made her insides horribly queasy. But it also felt a little far-fetched to think that someone was just hanging around—where?
“Where would they have been hiding that we didn’t see them while we were sitting on the porch?” She spread her hands to show the empty area around the cottage and lighthouse. “There’s really nowhere for someone to hide close enough to listen. Unless… Ugh—I hate the idea—unless—”
“The place is or was bugged.” Oscar didn’t seem any more thrilled about it than she did.
“We need to look inside that hidden room,” she said in a low voice in case someone was listening, and bolted to her feet. “Maybe whatever’s in there will tell us who the hell is doing this, and why. And boy, Iva’s going to be really disappointed that there isn’t a ghost after all.”
“Well, Iva’s tender feelings are the least of my worries right now,” Oscar muttered as he stood up. “Let’s go take a look at this room.”
She retrieved the oven mitts from the kitchen and they went out to the trellis. To Teddy’s relief, there didn’t appear to be any fresh markings that indicated it had been moved since she was there yesterday. Even with the heavy rain, this side of the lighthouse was on the opposite side from where the wind had come, and the rosebush was thick enough to have blocked much of it as well, so the tracks wouldn’t have been obliterated.
“Very clever way to hide a door.” Oscar slid it away, sustaining much less thorn damage than she had yesterday. “I forgot my phone on the porch, for its light. We’ll have to share the flash.” He turned it on and shined it into the room.
“Nothing looks different from yesterday,” Teddy said.
“I don’t see how anyone could have come here during the storm last night,” he replied. “It was too dangerous to come by boat, and my Jeep and that downed tree and power line are blocking the road. No one can get through.”
For some reason, an eerie shiver gripped her, and Teddy looked over her shoulder. There was no one around, there couldn’t be…but she felt exposed and nervous.
They were effectively trapped here on the island.
But that was silly. All they had to do was call Declan or the police station—or even the Tuesday Ladies—and any one of them would come and get them. And soon Oscar would have the generator working. And she’d have running water again.
Teddy smiled, but she still felt uneasy.
“Well, look at this.” Oscar shined the small flashlight down into one of the plastic tubs he’d opened. “Wetsuits. Face masks. Flippers. Someone’s been scuba diving.”
“See! I told you,” Teddy said, partly joking, partly intrigued, and partly nervous. “They could have come here during the storm last night, deep under the water—”
“Still too dangerous with the lightning, because, look here—no rubber-covered oxygen tanks. Just plain old metal ones.” He’d moved on to open a different tub and was shining his flashlight into it. “And three BCs—mouthpieces—too. That means probably at least three divers.”
“I wonder what they’re doing. I mean, obviously they’re diving in the lake, and it seems like they’re—whoever they are—using the lighthouse as a base, or at least a place to store their equipment. But why bother? What’s the big secret?”
Before Oscar could reply, she heard something behind them that made her blood run cold.
Spinning around so quickly she bumped into her companion, Teddy saw a man and a woman standing in the doorway. They were outlined by the sun, but she was certain she didn’t know them.
“What’s the big secret? I could tell you,” said the man. “But then I’d have to kill you.”
Teddy’s heart plummeted and her knees nearly gave out.
Because he sounded dead serious.
Seventeen
No.
That was the only thought that lodged itself in Oscar’s mind: No.
There was no bloody way these people—whoever they were—were going to do anything to take Teddy from him.
Somehow, he managed to keep his head clear and his thoughts smooth as he faced what was surely the most dangerous moment of his life. Without looking, he reached for and took Teddy’s hand. It was freezing.
“Who are you?” he said, even as he measured the situation.
The man looked vaguely familiar, but Oscar was certain he’d never seen the woman before. Both of them appeared solid and fit, but that didn’t bother him.
It was the gun the female was holding that made his blood turn to ice.
“We tried to get you out of here,” she said, stepping into the room. “You had your chance. But just like stubborn, nosy Stuart Millore, you just wouldn’t leave.”
“Stuart Millore?” Teddy’s voice sounded a little creaky to Oscar
, but as she spoke more, it gained strength. “So what did you do about him? Did you push him off the lighthouse?”
The man shrugged as the woman laughed. “Like I said, he got too nosy. And he started asking questions. He’d see us when we came to do the yard work—you think the lawn mows itself? Or those flowers just sprang up from out of nowhere?”
“That must be how you rigged up the recording of the scream,” Teddy said. “Because you were here working on the yard, and if anyone saw you, you had the perfect excuse.”
“That’s right. Been doing the landscape work for this place and others managed by the rental agency for years now. That kept us free for our nighttime work.”
“You’re talking too much, Misty,” interrupted her companion. “Let’s get this done.”
Oscar felt Teddy tense against him, and his heart skipped a beat. Whatever they were here to do, he suspected it didn’t bode well for him and Teddy.
“I say we shoot ’em and lock ’em in here,” the man said. “No one will find ’em for weeks—if then.”
Misty frowned. “I don’t want to see the mess every time we come in here to get our things. Plus—duh—obvious murder.” Her eyes narrowed. “I liked the way we did it with the other guy. Looked like an accident.”
“Three people falling from the top of a lighthouse? That might raise a little suspicion,” Teddy said, and Oscar squeezed her hand.
Did she want to get shot, for crying out loud?
“She’s got a point, Rob,” Misty said. “Still, I don’t want a big fucking mess in here. We’ve got stuff to store.”
“But there’s a big storm coming,” Rob said. “Another one. A nasty lightning strike would be—what do they call it? An act of God?” He laughed, and it made the hair on Oscar’s neck stand on end. “The lovebirds climbed up to the top of the lighthouse to watch the storm roll in—sooooo romantic—and oopsie, they get struck by lightning. There’s a lot of metal up there.” He looked at Oscar with cold eyes. “And that lighthouse is a big old beacon in the middle of nowhere, just waiting to attract a bolt of lightning.”
Sinister Sanctuary: A Ghost Story Romance & Mystery (Wicks Hollow Book 4) Page 22
