Daddy On The Run

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Daddy On The Run Page 7

by Carla Cassidy


  “It was wonderful,” Julianne agreed.

  Julianne carried the dishes down to the kitchen and put them in the dishwasher. As she cleaned up the rest of the mess, she tried not to dwell on how nice it had been for the three of them to be together.

  She honestly couldn’t remember the last time they had all had such a leisurely time. Sam had never had leisure time, or had chosen not to take any. Julianne’s heart was filled with aborted attempts at picnics, canceled vacations and social events attended alone.

  Finishing the clean-up, she shoved the unpleasant memories out of her head. She needed to focus on the here and now, not dwell on the past or worry about the future. The past was done, and the future was out of her control. She would make no decisions until Sam’s present dilemma was solved.

  As she walked back into Emily’s room, Sam placed a finger to his lips, indicating that the child was sound asleep. He stood and followed Julianne out into the hallway. “She must have been exhausted, she only heard the beginning of my story before falling asleep,” he said.

  “Tea parties are exhausting.”

  “Or my story was boring,” he added with a grin. The smile faded and he reached out and touched a strand of her hair, his gaze lingering on her warmly. “I remember the first time you wore that dress,” he said, his voice husky as his eyes darkened in hue. “It was a spring charity dance and we were late because on the way we parked in a grocery store parking lot and made out like a couple of hot teenagers.”

  Julianne’s breath caught in her throat as she remembered that night so many years before. “I remember,” she said softly.

  “And I danced every dance with you and couldn’t wait to get you home and finish what we had started in that parking lot.” His fingers moved from her hair to her throat, softly caressing and evoking a remembered heat inside her. “Sweet Juli, come dance with me.”

  He took her hand and led her into their bedroom where he locked the door then punched on the radio and turned the dial. Soft, easy-listening music filled the air. Then, smiling once again, he pulled her into his arms and moved to the rhythm of the music.

  Julianne had always loved dancing with Sam. He led with strength, yet moved with a sensuous grace few men could claim. Their bodies were made to dance together. Her long legs followed his effortlessly, her body molding to the contours of his.

  She closed her eyes, wanting to lose herself in the music and the man who held her so tight. She didn’t want to think about the trouble they were in. She didn’t want to think about whether she would remain with him when it was all over. She only wanted to revel in being held by Sam.

  His scent surrounded her, soothing in its familiarity, as warming as his body so close to hers. His hands on her back were hot, burning their imprint through the thin silk material of her dress and reminding her of how much she’d loved to make love with Sam. He was a giving lover, never hurried and always lavish with caresses and kisses.

  “Juli.” His voice was low and soft in her ear and a shiver danced through her as his lips grazed the vulnerable skin just beneath her earlobe.

  “Sam.” She frowned and thought of a protest, but as his lips covered hers all thoughts of objecting fell away. His mouth was hot, insistent, demanding her response. Tangling her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, she opened her mouth to him, wanting the deep, soul kisses she knew he could give.

  This was her husband, her spouse, her mate, and it suddenly seemed crazy that he’d been back in the house, back in her life for two days and they hadn’t touched each other intimately, hadn’t kissed or made love.

  Why had she been punishing him? Why had she been punishing herself? They might not be together next week, or next year, but for now she was here with him.

  Without missing a beat, Sam danced them over to the bed, not breaking the kiss. Julianne drank in the taste of him, losing herself in the heat and passion of his lips.

  “Oh, Juli,” he finally said as his mouth left hers. “There were so many nights I thought I’d never see you again, never hold you again.”

  “Shh,” Julianne whispered, not wanting to talk of the lonely, aching nights. “We’re together now and that’s all that’s important.”

  He cupped her face in his hands, his eyes glazed with the fever of desire. The same fever suffused her body, causing a tingling, sizzling heat to spread from the pit of her stomach outward.

  His mouth captured hers again, his tongue dancing with hers as he worked to remove the tuxedo jacket. As the jacket fell to the floor, Julianne’s fingers moved to unfasten the buttons of his shirt, wanting to feel the warmth of his chest, the play of his muscles beneath the smooth flesh.

  As the shirt fell away, Julianne caressed the expanse of his chest and pressed one palm against the place where his heart beat frantically, mirroring the beat of her own.

  “Juli.” He whispered her name and she heard the love in his voice. Tears burned in her eyes, and she didn’t know if it was because she loved him or because she was so afraid his love just wasn’t enough.

  Shoving away the doubts, she surrendered all thoughts to the passion he stirred inside her, the aching desire he evoked.

  As he unzipped her dress and his warm hands splayed across her back, she moaned. It had been so long, so very long since she’d felt his touch, rejoiced in his caress.

  He gently pulled the top of the dress down her shoulders, exposing her lacy bra to his heated gaze. “You’re so beautiful,” he breathed. “Every night while I was gone you haunted my dreams, tormenting me because I wanted you so much. I’ve been so afraid…afraid I wouldn’t touch you again, love you again.” His lips once again sought hers and the last of Julianne’s inhibitions fell away beneath the magic he’d always managed to weave around her, inside her.

  Together they sank down onto the bed, the mattress welcoming their combined weight like an old friend’s warm embrace. Their bodies automatically found the curves and contours of each other, molding together with the familiarity of long-time lovers.

  “Oh, Juli…Juli,” Sam whispered against her neck as his hands splayed across her back. “I can’t tell you how much I’ve needed you, wanted you in my arms. Thoughts of you were the only things that kept me sane, kept me fighting to stay alive.”

  “Shh.” Julianne placed a finger against his lips. “I’m here with you now.”

  “Yes,” he agreed, and again in the depths of his eyes she saw questions she couldn’t answer. She couldn’t promise she’d be with him forever. She wasn’t even sure she could promise him tomorrow.

  Before she had a chance to say anything more, his lips claimed hers once again, evoking response and beckoning desire. She curled her fingers in his hair, loving the tactile sensation of his silken strands against her fingertips.

  The doorbell chimed. Sam’s arms tightened around her as he ended their kiss. “Ignore it,” he urged.

  “I can’t do that. My car is out front, people know I’m home. You said it was important we maintain normalcy.”

  Reluctantly he released his hold on her. As she got up, she pulled the gown back up on her shoulders, then moved to the window and peered out.

  “Who is it?” he asked.

  She stared out the window at the police car in the driveway, then turned and looked at Sam, her heart beating frantically in her chest. “It’s reality,” she answered.

  Chapter Six

  “Mrs. Baker?” The police officer on the front porch was baby-faced, with sandy-brown hair and chocolate-brown eyes. “Are you Mrs. Julianne Baker?”

  “Yes. What can I do for you, Officer…”

  “Richards. Mike Richards. I’d like to ask you a couple of questions, if you don’t mind.” He frowned, his gaze taking in her silk dress. “Uh, did I catch you at a bad time?”

  “Oh, no. I was just trying on some clothes for a charity drive.” Julianne ran her hands nervously down the sides of the dress. “Questions about what?”

  “Would it be possible for me to come in?”


  No. That was her first knee-jerk reaction to his request. What if Sam made a noise? What if Emily woke up and came bounding downstairs talking about her tea party with Mommy and Daddy? But if she said no, would the officer suspect something? Oh, please, don’t let her make the wrong decision. Don’t let her make a mistake.

  “Mrs. Baker?”

  She flushed. “Certainly, please come in.” She opened the door and led him into the living room, gesturing to the sofa. “Now, what can I do for you, Officer Richards?” she asked as she perched on the edge of the chair facing him.

  He pulled a small notepad and a pen from his breast pocket. Flipping open the pad, he smiled as if to ease her anxiety. It didn’t work. Anxiety bubbled in her stomach like a caldron of noxious poisons.

  “I’m one of the officers assigned to your father-in-law’s murder case,” he explained. “You are aware of the fact that we’re seeking your husband in connection with the crime.”

  She nodded, her heart beating a frantic tattoo in her chest. “Ha-have you found him?” she asked. Wasn’t it a logical question for a wife to ask about a husband who she wasn’t supposed to know his whereabouts?

  “No.” He eyed her curiously. “Am I right in assuming you’ve heard nothing from him?”

  “That’s right.” She hoped the lie didn’t sound like one. How she hated this, all of it. The deceptions, the necessary lies.

  “We got a report that somebody saw your husband carrying your daughter out of the house on the night the smoke bomb was set off,” he said, his gaze not wavering from hers.

  “That’s ridiculous,” she scoffed. “Who would say such a thing?” Her mind raced. Who might have seen him? Who had watched Sam step out of the smoking house that night? Who had called the police? Friend or enemy? Again anxiety filled her, making it difficult to breathe.

  Officer Richards shrugged. “It was an anonymous call. The captain felt we should come out here and follow up on it.”

  “There’s nothing to follow up. I haven’t seen or heard from Sam since the night his father was murdered.” Anger surged as the officer’s gaze turned skeptical. “Perhaps if the police force wasn’t so hell-bent on arresting my husband, you would find the real murderer who killed my father-in-law.”

  There was a moment of heavy silence. “Who did carry your daughter out of the house that night, Mrs. Baker?”

  Julianne frowned, unsure what to say. Obviously somebody in the neighborhood saw a man carry out Emily. “It was a passerby who saw the smoke and ran in to save Emily.” She raised her chin and eyed the officer boldly. “It was a miracle, and he was a real hero.”

  “And what was the hero’s name?”

  Julianne could tell by his tone of voice that he didn’t believe her, but she didn’t care. She had to protect Sam until he could straighten things out. Still, she tried to stick as close to the truth as possible. “I don’t know what his name was. He came out of the house and placed Emily on the ground next to me, then I passed out. When I came to, the fire department had arrived and the man was gone.”

  “So we have a shy hero,” he replied, making notes on his pad.

  Again anger reared up inside Julianne at his slightly mocking tone. “I don’t know who he was or why he disappeared. Perhaps he’s shy, maybe he didn’t want to get involved. I’d love to find out who he is so I can thank him for saving my daughter.” She sighed and tried to get hold of her emotions. “All I can tell you is that I would have known if it was Sam who carried Emily out of the house that night.”

  Tears burned her eyes, tears of frustration, tears formed by lies, a result of not knowing what was best, whom to trust, yet knowing she had to trust Sam. “For God’s sake, don’t you think I want my husband found?”

  “Mrs. Baker, don’t get upset.” Her tears apparently unsettled the officer. “I had to ask, you know, follow up on the phone call we received.”

  “Whomever called you was mistaken,” she answered as she wiped her cheeks with the backs of her hands. “And I’ll tell you this, as long as the police are looking for Sam, they are making a mistake. He’s not guilty and someone in Baker Enterprises is a murderer. And while you’re looking for the real murderer, how about trying to find out who set off a smoke bomb in my house?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said as he stood to leave. “I’ll just let you get back to whatever you were doing. We’ll be sure to get in touch with you if we discover anything about the smoke bomb incident.”

  After ushering him out, Julianne leaned heavily against the door, waiting for her heart to stop the erratic beat that had begun the moment she’d first faced him. When would this all end? When would Sam be free and the lies finally finished?

  “Juli?” Sam’s soft voice came floating down the staircase.

  She turned around. “Yes, he’s gone.”

  He came down the stairs and wrapped his arms around her. Gone was any flicker of the previous desire that had sizzled between them. His arms offered only solace. “Oh, Juli, I’m sorry you’re in the position to have to lie. I’m sorry I’ve put you in the middle of this mess.”

  Julianne moved out of his arms and smiled. “Sam, I’m supposed to be in the mess with you. You’re my husband.” A whisper of anger raised up inside her. “That’s always been half your problem.”

  “What?”

  “That you handle everything alone. You can’t or won’t depend on anyone else. You isolate yourself from everyone and that’s always made me feel like a useless appendage instead of a vital part of your life.” She flushed and shoved a strand of her hair away from her face. “I’m sorry. I know this is the last thing you need to hear from me right now.”

  The blue of his eyes darkened to the color of midnight. “Perhaps this is something we need to talk about right now,” he countered.

  Julianne was aware of the strain on his features, the lines of mental exhaustion that cut deeply across his forehead. The time wasn’t right to discuss their marital problems. He had enough to handle trying to catch a murderer. “Not now, Sam.” She reached up and gently traced the lines etched in the skin beside his eyes. “There will be time for us to talk about us later.”

  “Julianne, you know I love you,” he said.

  She nodded. “I know,” she answered softly, then straightened her shoulders as if mentally putting the conversation behind her. “And now I’ve got to get changed and get out of here. This morning I made an appointment for a job interview at four this afternoon.”

  “Are you sure you want a job?” Sam asked. “Once things get back to normal, you’ll be busy with all kinds of social things with Baker Enterprises.”

  “Sam, I have to seek my own dream, separate from you and Baker Enterprises.”

  Sam’s stomach twisted painfully as he recognized the steel resolve in her eyes. It was the same resolve he’d seen the first time he’d suggested they get a housekeeper. She’d told him she didn’t want one, had insisted she needed purpose in her life, even if that purpose was simply keeping a nice house for him.

  “I’ve got to go get ready.”

  He watched as she walked up the stairs and disappeared down the hallway, then he leaned against the front door, his heart heavy.

  Separate dreams. She needed something separate from him. And for the first time in as long as he could remember, when he’d said he loved her, she hadn’t returned the sentiment.

  He ran a hand down his face, across his jaw, thinking, reassessing. While on the run, it had been thoughts of Julianne and their life together that had kept him sane. But he realized now his memory had been distinctly selective.

  He’d remembered the good times, flashes of memories that had made him feel good. Julianne laughing, her eyes warm as cocoa as her joy filled him up. Julianne, rocking an infant Emily to sleep, the maternal smile on her face a mixture of happiness, mystery and a glowing femininity that stole his breath away. Snapshots of happiness frozen in time, etched in his mind, but having little to do with the reality of his marriage jus
t before he’d disappeared.

  This time as his memories played inside his head, they were different, far less pleasant. Julianne, eyes swollen with unshed tears as he came home late once again. Julianne, turning her back to him in bed instead of falling into his arms.

  He suddenly realized things had been wrong for a very long time, but he hadn’t wanted to deal with it, hadn’t wanted to face it.

  He was an expert at business negotiations, trouble-shooting problems in the company, but he had no clue as to how to fix his marriage. It had been easier to ignore the problems and hope they went away.

  But they hadn’t gone away and for the first time Sam realized he wasn’t just fighting for his life…he was fighting for his wife.

  And something else that bothered him. The policeman’s report that somebody had anonymously called them. Had it been a neighbor who’d seen him, they would have joined him, tried to help. Besides, a neighbor wouldn’t have remained anonymous.

  Somebody had hidden in the shadows that night and watched as he’d carried his daughter out of the house and to safety. His blood ran cold. Somewhere, somebody knew he was here.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Walker. I’ll see you next Monday morning,” Julianne said as she stepped out of the door of the Kids First Daycare.

  A job. She got into her car and leaned back, for a moment basking in the joy of accomplishment. She had a job. As of Monday morning she would be a teacher’s aide. Sure, it was only part-time and just a bit over minimum wage, but the director, Harriet Walker, had liked some of her ideas and had promised Julianne the latitude and support to implement some of them.

  It had been a long time since she’d felt the pleasure of a positive stroke. It felt good, like one of Sam’s kisses. She flushed as she remembered how close she had come to making love with him that morning. Oh, his kisses had been seductive, his caresses overwhelming in their fire and familiarity. Even now her body ached with unfulfillment, the desire to finish what they had begun.

 

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