Scene of the Crime: Return to Bachelor Moon

by Carla Cassidy

  “He is, isn’t he?”

  “He’s safe behind bars and completely out of the picture for whatever happened here a week ago.”

  “It feels like they’ve been gone forever,” Marlena said, her throat closing up as she felt the imminence of tears. “I can’t imagine them not being in my life in one way or another.”

  “I wish I could promise you a happy ending,” he said softly. “But to be perfectly honest, I don’t have a clue how this all might end. I think this may be one of the most frustrating cases I’ve ever worked.”

  “I just wish I could be of more help, but I’ve gone over and over it in my mind, and I can’t think of anyone who would have the capacity or the desire to kidnap Sam, Daniella and Macy.” Her voice cracked slightly with emotion and she reached for her tea as if a swallow would wash away the pain in her heart.

  She took a drink and then cleared her throat. “What happens if you don’t find out the answers? How long will your director allow you to work a case where there are no clues, no leads to follow?”

  “I don’t know. Right now he’s given us no indication he wants us pulled off the case.” He sat up a little taller in the chair. “The one thing I’ve learned while doing this work is that you never know when a clue will drop in your lap, when something will occur or some information will be learned that forms a lead. We’ve only had a week, and in the world of criminal investigations that’s just a minute.”

  As the sun began to fully dip below the horizon and the shadows of night crept in, Marlena stood, taking her tea glass with her. “Since the night of my impromptu swim, I’m no longer comfortable sitting out here when it gets dark.”

  “Do you still think somebody intentionally shoved you in the pond?” He grabbed his glass and also rose from his chair.

  She frowned thoughtfully. “I’m not sure right now what I think about that night. It’s possible that I was so freaked out by the family’s disappearance that I imagined I was pushed when I actually just stepped the wrong way.”

  “You haven’t felt threatened by anyone or anything since then?” he asked.

  She realized they stood too close to each other, that his eyes, normally midnight blue and so hard to read, appeared softer in the glow of twilight.

  “No, nothing.” She turned quickly and went into the house. He followed behind her, and as she placed her glass in the kitchen sink, he did the same.

  They were close together, facing each other in what felt like a void of time, of space. She knew she should say good-night and move away, but she was frozen in place, unable to speak, unable to move. His close proximity to her made her feel trapped, forbidden to escape even if she’d wanted to.

  Her heart thundered as he took a step closer to her. “I’ve been fighting the need to do this since I first saw you on the front porch a week ago.” His voice was a mere whisper as he raised a hand and drew it softly through her curls.

  He nodded as if satisfied. “I knew it would be soft as silk.” He dropped his hand from her hair and instead ran his thumb across her bottom lip. “I’ve also wanted to do this since the moment I saw you.”

  Before she could draw a breath or prepare in any way for what she knew was about to happen, his mouth covered hers in a fiery kiss that was directly at odds with the dispassionate man she’d thought him to be.

  He tasted of sweetened tea and hot desire, and she opened her mouth to him as his arms wrapped around her and pulled her close.

  A little voice inside her head told her this shouldn’t be happening, but it was happening, and it was wonderful. His body was solid against hers, and she instantly knew he was aroused.

  Their tongues battled together as if desperate to explore and know each other, as if both of them knew this explosion of simmering lust that had existed between them would never happen again, culminating in this, their first and last kiss.

  It was he who broke the kiss, dropping his arms from around her and jumping back as if she were on fire.

  His ragged breathing matched her own as he stared at her. “I just had to know,” he said. “And now I do, and that won’t happen again.” Without waiting for her response, he turned and left the kitchen.

  * * *

  GABRIEL SAT IN the Rusty Nail Tavern just off Main Street in Bachelor Moon, nursing a beer alone at the end of the counter. Most of the people who shared the space with him knew that he was one of the FBI agents who’d come to town to investigate the Connellys’ disappearance, and he knew that most of them didn’t like the fact that he’d invaded their space.

  He wasn’t a native. He wasn’t one of them. Nobody approached him, and that was just fine with him. He was doing what he did best—watching people, eavesdropping on conversations, perfectly satisfied being alone.

  It had been two nights since he’d kissed Marlena and he was still trying to get the taste of her out of his mouth. He took a drink of his beer as if that would do the trick, and his gaze constantly moved over the Saturday-night crowd.

  Was the perp in the room right now? Silently crowing over how easily he’d managed to fool the agents who had been sent here to investigate? Gabriel tightened his hand around the neck of his beer bottle. Within days it would be two full weeks since the Connelly family had last been seen, and they were no closer to having any answers.

  This case was driving him crazy. She was driving him crazy. That kiss had been one of the biggest mistakes he’d ever made in his life, for now it was emblazoned on his brain, and he couldn’t stop thinking about kissing her again.

  He took another pull of his beer, wondering if they were ever going to get a break on this case. For the past couple of days, he and Andrew and Jackson had beat feet across the town, checking abandoned storefronts, empty storage units, old barns and sheds, anywhere that a family of three could be stashed away and anyplace bodies could have been disposed.

  They’d listened to gossip, to rumors and had chased down a dozen dead ends. With each day that passed, his belief that the Connelly family was alive had slowly died. He believed it was just a matter of time before their bodies were discovered by somebody walking in a field, strolling through a forest or fishing near a swamp.

  What he found hard to accept was that it was possible he and his small team of two would leave here and never have any answers, never know who was responsible.

  If he looked deep inside himself, he also knew that he found it hard to believe he would leave here without following through on that steamy kiss he’d stolen from Marlena.

  He wanted more.

  He wanted a lot more from her.

  He wanted to slide his mouth down her neck, cup her bare breasts in his hands while she moaned in acquiescence. It had nothing to do with love or romance. It had nothing to do with anything but the raging lust she created inside him.

  What made it so difficult to get out of his head was the fact that he thought she felt the same way about him. She’d eagerly accepted his kiss, had pressed herself against him as if she’d been willing to give him more. And he’d wanted to take more.

  “Smells like pig in here—a big fat federal pig,” a deep voice said from nearby.

  Gabriel turned to see Ryan Sherman and his girlfriend, Tammy, seated at a table for two near the bar. Gabriel whirled around on his bar stool and stared at them. He mentally groaned. He was in no mood to deal with a yahoo. Ryan apparently didn’t realize he was baiting a pit bull.

  Gabriel continued to stare at Ryan, almost begging him to do something stupid so Gabriel could fly into action and get rid of the energy building inside him. But Tammy placed a hand on Ryan’s arm and whispered in his ear, and Ryan broke the intense, challenging stare, and instead got up and wandered toward the pool tables on the other side of the room.

  Gabriel turned around, finished his beer and checked his watch. Nearly midnight. The crowd had begun to thin
out a bit, and he knew if he had one more beer, it would be one too many to drive back to the bed-and-breakfast. It was time to leave.

  He hadn’t invited Andrew or Jackson to come along with him to the tavern. As much as he liked them, he’d needed a break from them, too. They would be in their room by now, their deep snores mingling to create a discordant form of music.

  As he left the bar, the night air wrapped around him, thick and humid and with the tang of ozone that preceded an approaching storm. As he got into the car, he saw in the distance a zigzag of lightning split the darkness of the black, clouded sky.

  If he was lucky, he would make it to the bed-and-breakfast before the storm hit. Driving with his window down, breathing in the heavy, thick air, the distant rumble of thunder pealed and he stepped on the gas, eager to get inside before the wind and rain arrived.

  He felt as if the storm was inside of him, and he understood the interior tumult mirrored the unstable atmosphere around him. He also knew the genesis of his unhinged emotions.

  Marlena.

  It had only been nine days since he’d met her, and yet he felt as if he’d wanted her for an entire lifetime, as if he had been born wanting her, and he wouldn’t be satisfied until he had her.

  It’s the beer talking, he tried to tell himself as he pulled up in front of the house and parked the car. He got out of the vehicle and stood, taking several deep breaths of the wildness of the night around him, flinching slightly as a slash of lightning slivered brilliantly in the stormy skies. It was followed within seconds by a loud clap of thunder, letting him know the storm was nearly upon him.

  He used the key Marlena had given him to enter through the front door quietly. He relocked it behind him, but before going upstairs, he needed a big glass of water. He’d learned a long time ago that the best chaser for too many beers was water. It helped to keep a morning hangover to a minimum.

  He crept through the darkness of the great room and dining room, guided by the small night-light in the kitchen.

  Stepping into the kitchen, he froze at the sight of Marlena standing in front of the opened refrigerator door, clad only in a short filmy pink nightgown. As if sensing his presence, she closed the refrigerator, her eyes wide as she looked at him.

  Lightning flashed in the room as he took several steps toward her, unable to stop himself even if he’d wanted to. He felt as if the wicked hand of fate was at work, and he was helpless not to follow where it led.

  Without saying a word, he approached where she stood with her hand pressed against the fridge. He placed his palms on either side of her on the cool white exterior of the appliance, his arms effectively trapping her in place.

  He was wild with want, and couldn’t help but notice that her breasts rose and fell in a rapid rhythm that matched the quickened beating of his heart. Her nipples were outlined against the thin material of her nightgown as if to taunt him, as if inviting his touch.

  “Are you drunk?” she finally asked, her voice husky and breathless.

  “Apparently not drunk enough,” he replied, and then took her mouth with his as he pressed against her. If she was smart, she’d smell the wildness on him, run from it... Run from him.

  But she apparently wasn’t smart, for instead of running away from him, she looped her arms around his neck, pulled him closer and opened her mouth to him.

  He was vaguely aware of thunder and lightning and rain beginning to pelt the windows, and then he was conscious of nothing but kissing Marlena.

  Her soft floral scent surrounded him, invading his senses to the point that nothing else mattered but her. He would have her tonight. He knew it by the fire in her kiss, by the way her body met his in mindless yearning.

  He would have her tonight, and then this desperate wanting of her would finally be satiated, and he’d be done with her haunting his thoughts, invading his dreams.

  Chapter Seven

  Marlena had known she was in trouble the minute she’d seen him in the kitchen doorway. A primal energy had wafted from him, an energy that fed one inside of her.

  She knew what he wanted, and she wanted it, too. From the moment he had kissed her two nights before, she’d known that eventually they would make love. No, not make love, she mentally corrected herself. She’d known they would have sex.

  She wouldn’t delude herself into believing that what they were about to do had anything to do with love. He was a man who couldn’t love, but still she somehow knew he could take her to sexual splendor, and at the moment that was enough.

  It was the last rational thought she had as Gabriel’s lips plied hers with fire, and he ground his hips against hers, letting her know he was already fully aroused.

  There had been instant tension between them from the moment they’d first met, and now she recognized that it had been physical desire, a desire nearly impossible to deny even if she had wanted to.

  As his lips left hers and blazed a slow trail down her throat, she tangled her fingers through his thick dark hair and whispered his name.

  He leaned back and looked at her, as if expecting her to tell him this was enough, that he needed to go to his room now and stop what they both knew was about to happen.

  “Come with me to my room,” she said, taking any doubt out of the situation.

  He stepped back from her, his eyes glowing as another flash of lightning momentarily lit the room. “Are you sure?” His voice was taut with tension.

  As a reply she took his hand firmly in hers and led him into her private quarters. He stood in the center of the sitting room as she locked the door, and then he followed her into the bedroom, where a small lamp pooled a glow from the nightstand.

  She turned, and before she could say anything or draw a single breath, she was back in his arms, his mouth covering hers in a kiss that seared her to her very core.

  They fell onto her bed, their embrace unbroken, his mouth still covering hers. The tumult of the storm was personified in her bedroom, barely restrained, as he fumbled with his buttons to remove his shirt.

  She helped him, wanting to feel his naked chest, to run her fingers across his warm, firm muscles. When his shirt was finally undone, he broke the kiss, sat up, shrugged out of the shirt and threw it into the darkness beyond the bed.

  She watched hungrily as he stepped from the bed, kicked off his shoes and pulled off his socks then removed his slacks, leaving him clad only in a pair of black boxers. The light from the bedside table loved his skin, emphasizing lean muscle and wiry strength. With eyes that glittered with unbridled need, he returned to the bed and pulled her back into his arms.

  His skin was fevered as his legs wound around hers, and she grabbed hold of his broad, bare shoulders. They kissed again, his mouth feeling as if he touched her everywhere.

  He broke the kiss and stared at her, the faint light dancing silver shards in the depths of his blue eyes. “You know that tomorrow it will be as if all of this never happened.”

  She heard the words he didn’t say, words to let her know this night meant nothing to him, that it wasn’t the beginning or the end of anything. It just was.

  She nodded. “I know, and that’s okay with me.”

  It was as if these simple words unleashed the most powerful part of the storm. He grabbed the hem of her nightgown and pulled it up and off her, leaving her clad only in a small pair of matching panties.

  “You are so beautiful,” he said, his voice deep and husky as his gaze lingered on her bare breasts. He cupped them with his hands and rubbed his thumbs over her nipples until they were taut and aching. “I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind.”

  When he drew one of her nipples into his mouth, a moan of pleasure escaped her. He teased the tip, licking and sucking as she tangled her hands in his hair and pulled him closer, tighter against her.

  In all of her twenty-s
even years, she’d never known the need she felt at this moment, never experienced the kind of out-of-control passion she felt now for him...for Gabriel.

  As he continued to tease and lick her nipples, first one and then the other, one of his hands slid down the flat of her stomach. Her breath caught as he rubbed his hand over her intimately, the only barrier the silk panties she still wore.

  His hand heated the silk, and she arched her hips up to encourage the contact. She was on fire, and he was the only person who could put out her flame.

  She reached down and wrapped her hand around his hard length, shielded only by the cotton of his boxers. He released a groan as she squeezed slightly and moved her hand up and down.

  He allowed her to continue for only moments, and then rolled away from her and took off his boxers. This time when he kissed her, he started in the center of her breasts and nipped and licked downward.

  She stopped breathing in anticipation as his mouth moved along her stomach and then whispered across her panties, warming her with his breath. He removed her panties by inches as she raised her hips to aid him. When his mouth touched her there, she climaxed and cried his name again and again.

  As she came back to earth, he hovered between her thighs, his boxers gone, his face taut and beautiful with his need for her.

  She grabbed his tight butt and pulled him forward, reveling in his need, welcoming her own. He slid into her with a deep sigh, and then his lips found hers in a kiss of aching tenderness.

  He ended the kiss and then began to stroke, slow and deep inside her. Their breaths became pants as his motions became faster, more frantic, and she felt the rise of exquisite pleasure building again inside her.

  She clung to him, encouraging the piston of him rubbing against her, into her, until she flew over the edge at the same time he stiffened with his own release.