Lover Beware
Page 8
Damon realized, for all their long talks together, he didn’t know Sarah very well at all. His heart and mind and soul wanted and needed her, but he didn’t know her. Enthralled, he watched as she gained the porch. Even the wind seemed to have stilled, holding its breath.
Sarah turned back to look up at the sky, to lift her arms toward the clouds. Her face was toward the cliff house. Damon had a sudden vision of her sisters standing on the battlements in front of the rolling sea, raising their arms in unison with Sarah. Calling on the wind, calling on the elements to bind their wills together.
The wind moaned softly, carrying the sound of a melodious song, so faint he couldn’t catch the words but he knew the voices were female. Dark threads spun into thick clouds overhead and the wind rushed at the house, rattling the windows and shaking the doors. The sky darkened ominously, fat drops of rain splattered the roof and yard. Damon tasted salt in the air. The rain seemed to come from the ocean itself, as if the wind, in answer to some power, had driven the salt water from the sea and spread it over the land.
The wind pulled back, reminiscent of a wave, then rushed again, this time with a roar of rage, aiming at the entry. Under the assault, the door burst inward, allowing the chilling wind into the house. Sarah rolled in behind it, as papers and magazines flew in all directions, providing a small distraction. She was already up on one knee in a smooth motion, tracking with her gun.
“I don’t want to have to shoot you, but I will,” she said. The words carried clearly to Damon although her voice was very low. “Put the gun down and kick it away from you.” Damon hurried up the porch steps. He could see that Sarah’s hand was rock steady. “Donna, don’t try to move, an ambulance is on the way.” Her gaze hadn’t shifted from the man standing over Donna’s body.
Damon could see the lump on Donna’s head, the blood spilling onto the thick carpet. His fingers tightened around his cane until his knuckles turned white. He transferred his hold to a two-handed grip. Fury shook him at the sight of the woman on the floor and the man he recognized standing over her.
“Damon.” Sarah’s voice was gentle but commanding. “Don’t.”
He hadn’t realized he had taken an aggressive step forward. Sarah hadn’t turned her head, hadn’t taken her alert gaze from Donna’s attacker, but she somehow knew his intention. He forced himself back under control.
“Why would you attack a helpless woman?” Damon asked. He was shaking with anger, with the need to retaliate.
“Don’t engage with him,” Sarah counseled. “I hear a siren. Will you please see if it’s the sheriff?”
Damon turned and nearly ran over Inez. He caught her as she tried to rush to Donna’s side. “You can’t get between Sarah and the man who attacked Donna,” he said. Inez felt light and fragile in his hands. She never seemed old, yet now he could see age lined her face. She looked so anxious he was afraid for her. Very gently he drew her away from the entrance, pulling her to one side.
The wind whipped through the room, sent loose papers once more into the air. Inez shivered and reached to close the door on the chilling sea breeze.
“No!” Sarah’s voice was sharp this time, unlike her.
It was enough to stimulate Damon into action. He held the door open to the elements. It was only then that he felt the subtle flow of power entering with the wind. Faintly he could hear, or imagined that he heard, the chanting carried from the direction of the ocean…or the cliff house.
He studied Donna’s assailant, one of the men who had tortured him. The man who had pressed a gun to Dan’s head and pulled the trigger. Why was he simply standing there motionless? Was it really the threat of Sarah’s gun?
Damon had no doubt that she would shoot, but would that be enough to intimidate a man like this one? He doubted it. There was something else in the room, something holding the killer.
A sense of rightness stole into his heart, carried with it a sense of peace. Sarah was a woman of silk and steel. She was magnificent.
“Jonas is coming,” Inez whispered to Damon. “Sarah’s going to have a problem. She’ll be weak and sick after this. She won’t want anyone to see her like that.”
Damon could see the acceptance of his relationship with Sarah in Inez’s expression. It made him feel as if he truly belonged. Inez’s approval meant more to him than it should have, made him feel a part of the close-knit community instead of the outsider he always seemed to be wherever he went.
He nodded his head, pretending to understand, determined to be there for Sarah the way she seemed to be for everyone else.
Jonas Harrington came through the door first, his eyes hard and unflinching. He had Donna’s assailant in handcuffs immediately. Sarah sank back on her haunches, her head bowed. She wiped sweat from her brow with the back of a trembling hand. Damon went to her immediately, helping her up, forcing her to lean on him when she didn’t want to, when she was worried about his hip and leg.
Sarah went down the hall with Damon’s help, found a chair in the kitchen where she could sit. She looked up at him and smiled her appreciation. That was all. And it was everything. He got her a glass of water, helped her steady her hands enough to drink it. She recovered fairly quickly, but she remained pale.
“Are your sisters feeling the same effects?” he asked.
Sarah nodded. “It isn’t the same as casting. It takes a tremendous amount of our energy to hold someone against his or her will. It wasn’t in his nature to be passive.” She held out her hand. “I’m doing better. I need to eat something and sleep for a little while.” She sighed. “I promised Irene I’d go visit Drew tonight but I don’t have any strength left after this, not the kind I’d need to help them.” She pressed her fingertips to her temples. “I can’t really do anything for Drew and Irene knows that. Extending his life might not be the best thing. If only Libby were here.”
“Sarah.” He spoke in his most gentle tone. “Leave it alone for now. Let me take you home; I’ll fix you a good meal and you can sleep. I’ll talk to Irene myself. She’ll understand.”
“How did you know my sisters were helping me?”
“I felt them,” he replied. “Are you steady enough to talk with the sheriff?”
She nodded. “And I want to make certain Donna’s all right.”
When they returned to the living room, Harrington already had Donna’s assailant in the squad car. Donna burst into tears, clinging to Sarah and Inez, making Damon feel helpless and useless but filled with a deep sense of pride in Sarah and her sisters.
“Why did he attack you, Donna?” Sarah asked.
“I noticed he had your earring, Sarah. The one Joley made for you. He was wearing it. It’s one of a kind and I thought you must have lost it. So I asked him about it. He hit me hard and dragged me out of the store back into my house. He kept asking me questions about you and about Mr. Wilder.”
Sarah pressed her hand against Donna’s wound, just for a moment. Damon watched her face carefully, watched her skin grow paler until she swayed slightly with weariness. Sarah leaned down and kissed Donna’s cheek. “You’ll be fine. Don’t worry about the store, we’ll lock up for you.”
“I’m going to the hospital with her,” Inez said, glaring at the paramedics as if daring them to deny her. She held Donna’s hand as they took her out.
“Sarah?” Jonas Harrington stood waiting against the wall. “You have a permit to carry that gun?”
“You know I do, Jonas,” she replied. “You’ve seen it more than once. Yes, it’s up-to-date. And I didn’t shoot the man, although I was inclined to with Donna lying on the floor bleeding. And he is wearing my earring. I want it back.”
“I’ll get it back for you,” Jonas was patient. “I know you’re tired, but I need you to answer a few questions.”
“That’s one of the men who kidnapped me. He’s the one who killed my assistant,” Damon explained. “The other two must be staying somewhere in town. It shouldn’t be that hard to find them now that we have him.”
Damon circled Sarah’s shoulders with his arm. “Can you give us a ride to my place, Sheriff?”
“Sure. Let’s lock up and get out of here before Sarah keels over and her sisters haul us both over the coals. You’ve never seen them en masse, coming after you.” He shuddered. “It’s a scary sight, Wilder.”
“You’re the only one it’s ever happened to so far,” Sarah pointed out.
Chapter 9
DAMON STARED DOWN into Sarah’s sleeping face. She was beautiful lying there in the middle of his bed. He had been standing there, leaning against the wall, for some time just watching over her. Guarding her. It seemed rather silly and melodramatic when she was the one with the gun and the training, but it felt as necessary to him as breathing.
Where had such a wealth of feeling come from nearly overnight? Could a man fall deeply in love with a woman so quickly? She was everything and more than he’d ever thought of or dreamed about. How could anyone not love Sarah with her compassion and tolerance and understanding? She genuinely cared about the people in her town. Somehow that deep emotion was rubbing off on him.
She could have been killed. The thought hit him hard. A physical blow in the pit of his stomach. How was it possible to feel so much for one person when he’d just met her? His entire life he’d barely noticed people, let alone cared about their lives. From the moment he’d heard her name whispered on the wind, he knew, deep down where it counted, that she would change his life for all time.
Their walks together, all the times on the beach, whispering in his house, or hers, even spending time with her family had only strengthened his feelings for her.
Sarah opened her eyes and the first thing she saw was Damon’s face. He was leaning against the far wall, simply watching her. She could see his expression clearly, naked desire, mixed with knowledge of their future. His emotions were stark and raw and so real it brought tears to her eyes. Damon hadn’t expected to like her, let alone feel anything else for her.
She held out her hand to him. “Don’t stand over there all alone. You aren’t alone anymore and neither am I.”
He heard the invitation in her voice and his body began to stir in anticipation. But he stood there drinking her in. Wanting her in so many ways that weren’t just physical.
“You weren’t, you know, Sarah. You’ve never been alone. You don’t need me in the same way I need you. You have a family and they wrap you up in love and warmth and support. I never considered the value of family and love. Sharing a day with someone you care about is worth all the gold in the world. I didn’t know that before I met you.”
She sat up, studying him with her cool gaze. Assessing. Liking what she saw. Damon didn’t know why but he could see it on her face. “I’m glad then, Damon, if I gave you such a gift. My family is my treasure.”
He nodded. What would it be like to wake up every morning and hear her voice? There was always a caress in her voice, a stroking quality that he felt on his skin. Deep in his body. “And you’re my treasure, Sarah. I had no idea I was even capable of feeling this way about anyone.”
Sarah smiled. The smile she seemed to reserve for him. It lit up her face and made her eyes shine, but more, it lit up his insides so that he burned with something indefinable. “You brought me life, Sarah. You handed me my life. I existed before I met you, but I wasn’t living.”
“Yes, you were, Damon. You’re a brilliant man. The things you created made our world safer. I watch your face light up when you tell me about other ideas you have and what the possibilities are. That’s living.”
“I had nothing else but my ideas.” He straightened suddenly, coming away from the wall, walking toward her, confidence on his face. “That was how I escaped, into my brain and the endless ideas I could find there.” He traced the classic lines of her face, her cheekbones. Her generous mouth. “Take off your blouse, Sarah. I want to see you.”
A faint blush stole into her cheeks but her hands went to the tiny pearl buttons on her blouse and slowly began to slide the edges apart. His breath caught in his throat as he watched her. Sarah didn’t try to be sexy, there was never anything affected about her, yet it was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. The edges of her blouse slowly gaped open, to reveal her lush creamy flesh beneath it. She had a woman’s body, shaped to please a man with soft curves and lines.
Her breasts were covered with fine white lace. Sarah stood up, her body very close to his. Damon felt a rush of heat take him, a whip of lightning dance through his body. His blood thickened and pooled. His body hardened almost to the point of pain. He embraced it, reveled in the intensity of his need for her.
“You’re so beautiful, Sarah. Inside and out. I still can’t believe I could go from living in hell straight to paradise.”
She reached for him. “I’m not like that at all, Damon. I’m not truly beautiful, not by any stretch of the imagination. I’m not even close. And living with me would not be paradise. I’m outspoken and like my way.”
With exquisite tenderness, he bent his head to find her mouth with his. For a moment they were lost together, transported out of time by the magic flowing between them. When Damon lifted his head to look down at her, his gaze was hungry. Needy. Possessive. “You’re beautiful to me, Sarah. I will never see you any other way. And lucky for you, I’m stubborn and very outspoken myself. I think those are admirable traits.”
“That is lucky,” she murmured, allowing her eyelashes to drift down and her head to fall back as he pulled her closer, his mouth breathing warm, moist air over her nipple right through the white lace. Her arms cradled his head as she arched her body, offering temptation, offering heaven.
His mouth was hot and damp as it closed over her breast. Fire raced through her, through him. Sarah gave herself up to sensual pleasure as his tongue danced and teased and his mouth suckled strongly right through the lace. He took his time, a lazy, leisurely exploration, his hands shaping her body, using the pads of his fingers as a blind man would to trace every curve and hollow. Memorizing her. Worshipping her.
Sarah was lost in sensation. Drowning in it. She couldn’t remember him unsnapping her jeans, or even unzipping them. But her lacy bra had long ago floated to the floor and somehow he managed to push denim from her hips. In a haze of need and heat she stepped out of the last of her clothes.
He was never hurried, even as his mouth fused once more with hers and she was trying to drag his shirt from his broad shoulders so she could be skin to skin with him. He was patient and thorough, determined to know her body, to find every hidden trigger point that had her gasping in need. His hands moved over her, finding the shadows and hollows, tracing her ribs lovingly. He allowed Sarah to drag his clothes from his body, not appearing to notice or care, so completely ensnared by the wonders of giving her pleasure. He loved the little gasps and soft cries that came from deep in her throat.
Sarah. So responsive and giving. He should have known she would be a generous lover, merging with him so completely, giving of herself endlessly. Her selfless gift only made him want to be equally generous. For the first time his scars weren’t shameful and something he hid. When her fingertips traced them, there was no reluctance, no shrinking away from the ugly memories of torture and murder. She soothed his body, caressing his skin, arousing him further, eager to touch him, wanting him with the same urgency he wanted her.
He lowered her slowly to the sheets, following her down, settling his body over hers. Her face was beautiful as she stared up at him. He kissed her eyes, the tip of her nose, the corners of her mouth.
Everywhere he touched her he left flames behind.
Sarah was astonished at the sheer intensity of the fire. He was so unhurried, taking his time, but she was going up in flames, burning inside and out, needing his body in hers. She heard her own voice, a soft plea for mercy as his lips nipped over her navel, went lower. His hands moved with assurance, finding the insides of her thighs, the damp heat waiting for him at the junction of her legs.
“Damon.” She could barely breathe his name. Her breath seemed to have permanently left her body. There wasn’t enough air in the room.
His finger pushed deep inside her, a stroke of sensuality that drove her out of her mind. Every sane thought she’d ever had was gone. There was a roaring in her head when his mouth found her, claimed her, branded her his. She couldn’t keep her hips still, writhing until his arms pinned her there, while his hot mouth ravaged her and wave after wave of pleasure rippled through her body with the force of the booming ocean. Her fingers tangled in his hair, her only anchor to hold her to earth while she soared free, gasping out his name.
Damon moved then, blanketing her completely, his hips settling into the cradle of hers. He was thick and hard and throbbing with his own need. He pushed deep inside of her, his voice hoarse as he cried out as the sweeping pleasure engulfed him. She was hot and slick and tight, a velvet fist closing around him, gripping with a fire he’d never known. Sarah. Magical Sarah.
He began to move. Never hurried. Why would he hurry his first time with Sarah? He wanted the moment to last forever. To be forever for both of them. He loved watching her face as he moved with her. As his body surged deep and her body took him in, her secret sanctuary of heat and joy. Her hips rose to join him, matching his rhythm, tilting to take him deeper and deeper with every stroke, wanting every inch of him. Wanting his possession as much as he wanted her.