A Deadly Love (24 page)

Her pulse thrummed painfully. Taking a deep breath, she searched for an innocuous topic. “This place is lovely.” She nodded toward an antique table that held an old milk jug filled with an arrangement of daisies. “Very homey.”

“I’m glad you like it.” With a hand at her waist, he guided her to the front desk tucked beneath a curving staircase and touched the silver bell resting on its top. A moment later a smiling woman with soft gray hair and glasses hanging from a chain around her neck hurried down the hall toward them.

“Welcome. Welcome.”

Her chirping voice and bobbing step reminded Brooke of a plump robin. She hid a grin as Dillon apologized for arriving early. He certainly didn’t look sorry when he jerked his wallet from his hip pocket.

“Don’t worry about it another moment. Your room is ready, Mr. Tremayne,” she said, taking his credit card and sliding it through a machine. She pulled a brass key from a hook on the wall, and her gaze strayed toward Brooke’s bare left hand resting on the satin smooth desk top. “I hope you and your—companion will be most comfortable in the daffodil suite. Up the stairs, second door on the left. The room has a connecting bath and a view of the back garden.”

Brooke stuffed her ringless hand in her jacket pocket and forced a smile.
Judgmental old biddy.
“It sounds lovely.”

“I’m sure it’ll be just fine,” Dillon said over his shoulder as he strode across the entry to grab their bags.

“Breakfast is served between seven and nine,” their hostess called.

“Perfect,” he answered, already halfway up the stairs.

Following close on his heels, Brooke covered her mouth with her hand, trying to hold back her laughter. When she reached the upper hallway, she clutched her shaking sides. “Did you see the way her lips pursed up like she’d tasted something nasty? I bet she thinks we’re sex addicts.”

“I could care less. Damn key, I can’t get it to—there it goes.” He pushed their bags through the open doorway with his foot, snagged her arm to pull her inside, and shut the door behind them with a resounding thud.

She raised an eyebrow and gave him an innocent look. “Is there a reason for your haste?”

Taking her in his arms, he kissed the side of her neck. She shivered, and her knees threatened to buckle. His hands strayed down her sides and cupped her bottom, pulling her tight against him. His breath stirred the hair at her ear. “Something came up. A quick exit seemed like the best solution to the problem.”

Desire, hot and urgent, replaced levity as his mouth found hers in a kiss that left her shaking with need. Running her hands beneath his shirt, she caressed the warm skin stretched tight over muscled flesh, the ridges of his backbone, and the hard angles of his shoulder blades. Her fingers skimmed down his sides, and she felt his quaking response.

He carried her to the four-poster bed, his arms tight around her hips. “You’re sure?” he whispered. “Last time—”

She touched her fingertips to his lips. “Let’s concentrate on now.”

“I want you so much I ache.” He brushed a lock of hair off her cheek with the pad of his thumb. His golden eyes seared an impression on her heart.

She’d fallen for him, hard and fast, with little regard to the damage he could inflict emotionally. It was too late to turn back, too late to reinforce her protective walls. Her emotions were stripped bare, and she could only pray he’d treat them with care. Looking into his eyes, she didn’t question his desire, knew his regard for her was genuine. She wished she could be certain there was something deeper, something lasting behind it.

Neither mentioned love.

Holding tight to his warm, hard body, breathing in his scent, looking deep into his eyes and seeing her own longing reflected there, she pushed away her fear. She wouldn’t let doubt ruin the moment. She’d take what he offered and worry about the future later.

Frown lines creased his forehead. “Are you okay?”

She nodded, stroking her hand across his smoothly shaven cheek. He turned his head and kissed her palm. Emotion clogged in her throat, leaving her mute.

“You’re certain?”

“Never surer,” she whispered.

Seemingly reassured, he gently bit her bottom lip. She gasped and dug her fingers into his hair, tugging him down on top of her. They rolled together across the patchwork quilt, lips fused, hands working to find bare skin beneath layers of clothing.

Dillon tossed her jacket over the edge of the bed and unbuttoned her shirt. His blunt fingers stroked across the skin of her stomach then cupped her breast through the lacy bra. Her breathing quickened as he pulled away the last barrier and lowered his mouth over one pink tip. A low moan escaped her lips, and she bucked beneath him.

“God, Brooke.” He tugged her pants down over her hips, dragging her panties with them.

Franticly she worked his shirt buttons free of their holes and pulled it off his shoulders. With trembling hands, she stroked the hard plains of his chest, letting the light dusting of hair tease her fingertips before going to work on the metal buttons of his jeans.

His hand covered hers, and she looked up into glazed eyes.

“Let me. If you keep touching me that way—”

“I don’t care.” She thrust her hand into his boxers, cupping the hard length of him in her palm, feeling like she might shatter into a million pieces if he didn’t fill the aching emptiness inside her.

He eased her hand away and kissed her, deep and drugging, taking the edge off her urgency. “I do care. I want to treasure you.”

His hands were everywhere, stroking her hip, the soft skin of her inner thigh, whispering across her ankle and along the arch of her foot. She cried out, her fingers tightening in his hair when he finally found the sweet spot at her core. “Now, Dillon, please don’t make me wait any longer.”

“I don’t think I could.” His eyes glittered as he sank into her, filling her heart and soul.

Wrapping her legs around his hips, she pressed her face into his shoulder and held on as the feeling built past endurance. His shuddering release sent her reeling over the edge, and she couldn’t hold back a scream, raw and pure.

The weight of him pressed her into the mattress, and the pounding of his heart echoed her own. Minutes passed before either moved. When he rolled to his back, he pulled her with him.

Eyes tightly closed, her lips tasted the perspiration dampening his chest. “Please tell me I didn’t scream,” she mumbled. When he didn’t answer, she opened one eye and glanced upward. A silly grin stretched across his face.

“It was a truly impressive scream.”

She shuddered and hid her face against his side. “Oh God.”

His chest shook with laughter. “Made me feel like a superstar.”

“I’m glad you can joke about it. Our hostess will kick us out for disturbing the other guests!”

He let out a long exhalation of breath and tightened his hold. “I hope not. I’m right where I want to be.”

Warmth filled her, and her embarrassment eased. She loved this man so much she felt ready to burst with emotion. As she opened her mouth to let her feelings bubble out, he jerked upright. The color drained from his face.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I can’t freaking believe it!”

Sitting, she pulled the edge of the quilt across her breasts, her heart pounding heavily in her chest. “You’re scaring me, Dillon.”

“I didn’t use a condom.” He buried his face in his hands. “I thought about it, and then you touched me...” His voice trailed off, and he moaned. “I can’t believe I forgot about protection like some irresponsible teenager. I’m so sorry.”

She touched his arm and felt the muscle quiver. Her frantic heartbeat slowed. “It’s not the right time of the month for there to be a—a problem.”

He raised his head and looked at her. “You’re sure?”

The relief in his eyes tightened her throat. She wasn’t completely certain, but she nodded to ease his anxiety and spoke around the lump forming there. “Yeah. We were careless, but it isn’t going to turn into a lifetime commitment.”

He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood, reaching for the boxer shorts draped across a pale yellow wingback chair. Her eyes followed his movements as he pulled them up his hard muscled thighs and covered himself. The silence between them stretched.

Running his hand through his hair, he finally met her gaze. “Having a child isn’t something I take lightly.”

“Me, either.” She stiffened her spine and turned her back to him, searching for her clothes. “I guess it’s a good thing we won’t have to worry about it.”

Her hand shook as she fastened her bra. When he wrapped his arms around her and dropped her panties in her lap, she stilled.

His lips nuzzled the side of her neck. “Are you angry with me?”

She pulled away to ease the scrap of cotton and lace up her legs. “No.”

“You sound pissed.”

“I’m disappointed. There’s a difference.” She swung around and held up a hand. “I’m not trying to pressure you, but I thought you wanted to make this—this thing between us work? Your whole attitude suggests otherwise.”

He frowned. “I do want it to work.”

“But the thought of any kind of commitment still petrifies you.”

He picked up his jeans and stared down at them. “I wouldn’t say petrifies. Maybe unnerves. God knows, a baby isn’t something I planned for my immediate future.”

Stuffing her arms into the sleeves of her shirt, Brooke jerked the buttons through the holes. She wasn’t looking to get pregnant, so she didn’t know why his understandable anxiety upset her. But it did. “Relax. There won’t be any surprises this time. I’m ninety percent positive I’m not pregnant.”

“That’s good.” He looked into her eyes. “Right?”

She nodded and finished dressing before digging in her purse for a brush. Her voice was tight when she pulled it through her hair. “Let’s take a walk. I could use the fresh air.”

His eyes were wary as he watched her. “Good idea.”

They wandered the streets of Old Town, window shopping and admiring the Victorian architecture. After dragging Dillon through a museum and two art galleries, she tore herself away from a blown glass exhibit and headed outside.

She paused on the sidewalk and touched his arm. Somewhere between the display of Native American baskets and seascapes painted by local artists, her irritation had dissolved. “Your turn to decide what we do next. You’ve been a good sport, but I get the feeling art isn’t really your thing.”

“I don’t mind, though usually I go for something more physical when I have a little spare time. A bike ride or a long hike, kayaking, fishing.”

She laughed and let him guide her around two older couples. “What’s physical about fishing? The only thing you might wear out is your patience.”

“Good point. Let’s take a real walk down along the waterfront.”

“Sure.”

The sun was sinking into the ocean in a blaze of gold when they stopped on a bluff above a deserted cove. Sea grass whipped around their ankles as the wind picked up. Brooke zipped her jacket.

“Cold?” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and tugged her close to his side.

“A little.” She dug the toe of her shoe into the damp sand. “I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier. I don’t know why I did. It’s not like I want to get pregnant.” Watching the tide surge and withdraw on the beach below, she felt an almost hypnotic pull. He held her tight when she edged closer to the crumbling cliff edge.

“It’s only been a few months since you broke off your engagement. I thought you weren’t ready for another serious commitment?” When she opened her mouth, he squeezed her arm. “I’m not trying to weasel out of anything, here. I meant it when I said we’d see where this relationship takes us, but I need to understand what
you
want.”

She leaned back against him, feeling the warmth of his body through his wool shirt, the rise and fall of his chest with each breath he took. Her heart swelled, brimming with emotions better left unnamed. “I don’t know what I want.” Her words, low spoken, were swept away by the breeze. “I thought I wanted time to heal and start over. That’s why I left the city. I didn’t expect to get involved with you—or anyone, not so soon.”

“But we are involved.” His breath brushed her ear, sending a shiver through her.

“If it was just sleeping together, I wouldn’t be such a head case—but it’s not.” She turned in his arms and looked into his eyes. “I don’t want to care this much.”

He cupped her face in his palms and dropped a kiss on her upturned lips. “I care, too. Don’t doubt it for a minute. I know I get distracted with everything that’s going on, Zack and Jesse, work, the murders...” His pulse beat steadily in his throat. “But it doesn’t lessen what I feel for you.”

“Then let’s enjoy the rest of the weekend and not stress over the future.”

Relief filled his eyes. “Are you really okay with that?”

“I really am. I’m not in a rush, honestly.” She frowned. “Lately I’ve been feeling that way, like I’m under some sort of deadline to get it all figured out, which doesn’t make any sense at all.” Standing on her toes, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. “We have all the time in the world.”

****

Brooke was gone.
Gone.
He pulled at his hair as the pressure built inside him. Tonight was the night he was supposed to take her. He stared up at the full moon and resisted the urge to howl and shriek and pound his head against a tree. She was
ruining
it for him. Brooke held the final piece of his heart. After he was finished with her, he would be free.

He dashed tears off his face and took a steadying breath. He couldn’t have Brooke tonight, but the game was over for Marnie. The bitch would die, and good riddance. It was hard to believe he’d ever loved
that
one. There would be no regrets this time, no niggling feeling of remorse after it was over. He would give her one final chance to escape before reclaiming that particular piece of his heart.

Dropping his backpack on the ground, he shoveled dirt off the trap door and heaved it open. The stench of sweat and bodily waste rushed out. He grimaced. Time to empty the chamber pot. Grabbing the lantern, he climbed down the ladder.