His Dark Embrace (8 page)
He stood in front of the big stone hearth in the living room, his hands braced against the mantel. Dammit! He had known scores of women in the course of his existence. Beautiful or plain, rich or poor, young or old, none of them had ever stirred his desire or touched his heart quite the way Sky did. He had seduced them, used them, forgotten them. But there would be no forgetting Skylynn, not in this lifetime or any other.
The best thing he could do for Sky McNamara was keep out of her way and out of her life. In a week or two, a month at best, it wouldn’t be safe for her, or any other mortal female, to be near him.
Chapter 6
Skylynn woke feeling grumpy after a restless night. Her dreams had been oddly disjointed, more like remembered scenes from her past than the kind of dreams she usually had. The images had changed quickly from one to the other, with no rhyme or reason.
She had been at her parents’ funeral, crying in Granda’s arms when, suddenly, she was in Iraq with Sam, making mud pies out of sand while bullets and grenades whistled over their heads. She was inside Kaiden’s house on Halloween night and it was full of trick-or-treaters—ghouls and ghosts, talking scarecrows, witches on broomsticks, vampires, and werewolves. And then, abruptly, she was out on the sidewalk in front of Granda’s house, playing hopscotch with a tall man in a gray cloak. And always, in the background, someone was watching her, someone who wore a long black leather coat with the collar turned up. Someone whose eyes burned as red as the fires of hell.
Going into the bathroom, Sky threw off her pj’s and stepped into the shower. She closed her eyes while the warm water sprayed over her, washing away the last of the troubling images, but nothing could wash away her concern for Sam. It had been four months since he had disappeared. It was horrible, not knowing where he was, not knowing if he was dead or alive.
She murmured, “Please be alive,” as she dressed and went downstairs to fix breakfast. She refused to believe Sam was dead. He had been her hero, the one she confided in, the one who had made her laugh when no one else could. He couldn’t be gone. Without him, her last anchor would be lost and she would truly be alone in the world.
Going into the kitchen, she pulled back the curtains, revealing a day as gray as her mood. With a sigh, she plugged in the coffeemaker, then sat at the table, trying to decide what she wanted for breakfast, only to realize she was too depressed to eat.
When the coffee was ready, she poured herself a cup, added a little milk and sugar, then went into the living room.
She was sitting on the sofa, staring at the far wall, when her cell phone rang.
“Tara!” she exclaimed. “How are you?” Sky had met Tara Reed in Chicago and they had quickly become best friends. They worked together at McGraw, Strait & Dunne.
“I’m fine,” Tara said, a smile in her voice. “I just called to see how you are.”
“I’m doing all right,” Sky murmured, leaning back against the cushions.
“Now, why don’t I believe that?”
“Probably because I’m lying. But I’ll be all right. It’s just hard, you know? I wish I’d called home more often.”
“Sky, you called him every week.”
“I know.” But she still felt guilty for not calling Granda more often. With Sam missing, she had been the only family her grandfather had left. “So, how’s everything at MS & D?”
“Miserable without you. Leena from Accounting eloped with CJ. Everybody’s talking about it. I mean, really, he’s old enough to be her father.”
“No kidding!” CJ McGraw was the CEO of MS & D, and Tara’s boss. “Boy, I didn’t see that one coming.”
“Neither did anybody else, including me! Oh, guess what? I saw Harry at Gene & Georgetti’s the night before last.”
“Oh?” Gene & Georgetti’s was Harry’s favorite restaurant. She told herself she didn’t really care, but curiosity made her ask, “Was he alone?”
“No, he was with Ron and his wife.”
Ron was Harry’s older brother.
“Is everything all right with you and Harry?” Tara asked.
“He seemed a little down.”
“I should probably call him.” Sky felt a twinge of guilt. She had hardly thought of Harry since she had come home. “We didn’t part on the best of terms.”
“You didn’t have a fight, did you?”
“Not exactly. He wanted to come to California with me, and I told him I wanted to be alone.”
“Ah. Well, you know how men are. They try to be so macho, but inside, they’re cream puffs.”
“Right,” Sky said, laughing. “So, what else is going on?”
“I have news,” Tara said. “I’m just not sure this is the right time to share it.”
“So, we’ve finally come to the real reason you called.”
“I think I’ll save it until you get back here.”
“Oh, no, you don’t. Come on, Tara Louise Reed, spit it out.”
“Well ... Lance asked me to marry him!”
“He did? When?”
“Last night. It was so romantic. We went to dinner and then he surprised me with tickets to
Wicked.
You know I’ve been dying to see it.” She blew out an exaggerated sigh. “He proposed during intermission.”
Wicked.
You know I’ve been dying to see it.” She blew out an exaggerated sigh. “He proposed during intermission.”
“That’s wonderful! When’s the big day?”
“Not until you get back here where you belong. After all, I can’t very well get married without my maid of honor, can I?”
“Are you asking me?”
“Of course. Who else would I ask? Anyway, we haven’t set a date yet, but it probably won’t be for at least a couple of months. I have to buy a dress, find a church and a caterer, pick out invitations, and get them in the mail. Bridesmaid dresses. I was thinking about lavender for the bridesmaids and maybe a darker shade for you. What do you think?”
“Whatever you want is fine with me. As long as it’s not yellow!”
Tara laughed. “No yellow, I promise. Anyway, all that takes time. And money. And planning.”
“Everything will work out. You’ll be a beautiful bride.”
“I know,” Tara said, and then giggled. “Oh, but that sounds vain, doesn’t it? But you know, all brides are beautiful. Listen, I’ve gotta go. CJ is calling me. I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”
“Sure. And Tara? It was great hearing from you. Thanks for calling.”
“Hang in there, girlfriend.”
“Will do. Bye.”
Sky felt better after disconnecting the call. She wasn’t really alone in the world. She had Tara and a few other friends at work. She had Harry, if she wanted him. But did she want him? Maybe she should have invited him to come home with her ...
She shook her head. The fact that she didn’t want Harry there, didn’t need him there, spoke volumes about their relationship.
Going into the kitchen, she refilled her coffee cup, then went back into the living room and sank down on the sofa, one leg tucked beneath her. Picking up the newspaper, she read the headlines and the funnies, checked the want ads, then curled up on the sofa and closed her eyes.
When she woke, it was late afternoon. She lay there for a few minutes, listening to the gentle patter of the rain on the roof, remembering how Granda had always made hot chocolate with lots of mini marshmallows for her and Sam whenever the weather turned cold or wet.
Smiling with the memory, she stood and stretched her arms over her head. After fixing herself a cup of hot chocolate, she added a generous helping of marshmallows, then sat at the kitchen table and wrote a letter to Sam. She wrote him every week. She didn’t mail the letters, of course, since no one knew where he was. Instead, she kept the correspondence in a shoe box. She would give it to him when he got home so he would know what had happened while he was gone, and that she had been thinking of him.
After finishing the letter, she returned to the living room. She switched on a light, then moved to the front window to watch the rain.
“What on earth?” Leaning forward, she blinked and blinked again. Kaiden Thorne was mad, she thought, completely mad. Clad in a pair of leopard-print swim trunks and nothing else, he was sitting on the grass in his front yard, pulling the weeds that grew along the edge of the driveway.
As though feeling her gaze, he looked up and glanced across the street. Then he lifted his arm and waved her over.
“Is he kidding?” she muttered when he repeated the gesture. “Well, why not? It’s only water, and I don’t have anything else to do.”
Feeling suddenly lighthearted, she slipped on a jacket and a pair of fur-lined boots and ran across the street. Too late, she realized she should have worn a raincoat, or at least brought an umbrella. The rain was coming down harder than she’d thought.
“Are you crazy?” she asked as she slogged across the wet grass. “It’s raining cats and dogs out here.”
He shrugged. “I was bored. The weeds needed pulling, and it’s easier when the ground is damp.”
“Damp!” she exclaimed, glancing at the thick black clouds overhead. “I think there’s a monsoon coming.”
He laughed at that, a big masculine laugh that had her joining in as she hunkered down beside him.
“So, what have you been doing this blustery day?” he asked as he pulled another weed and dropped it into a bucket.
“Moping. Feeling sorry for myself. Wishing I knew where Sam was. Missing Granda.” She shrugged. “Just generally having a pity party, I guess.”
“Well, you picked a good day for it.” He glanced up. “The angels are crying, too.”
“My grandmother used to say that whenever it rained.”
“You really are down, aren’t you?” Rising, he took her by the hand and pulled her to her feet. “Come on, let’s see if we can change that.”
Startled, she let him lead her up the steps to the porch and into the house.
“First, we need to get you into some dry clothes before you catch your death.”
Shivering, she wrapped her arms around her waist. “I can go home and change, you know. It isn’t that far.”
“Nope, I’m not letting you out of my sight. Besides, the rain’s coming down in buckets.” Moving toward the fireplace, he plucked a match from a container on the mantel and started a fire. Taking her by the hand, he led her closer to the hearth. “Stay here,” he said sternly, and left the room.
Sky glanced around. It was the first time she had been past the entry hall. The living room had high ceilings, paneled walls, and beautiful hardwood floors. Although it was a big room, it was sparsely furnished with only a black leather sofa, a matching chair, and a couple of end tables. The same furniture she had seen when he’d moved in years ago. A beautiful Oriental carpet was spread before the fireplace. An enormous crystal chandelier hung from a thick black chain.
The walls were bare save for a large painting of a green-and-gold dragon breathing fire at a sword-wielding knight in silver armor while a raven-haired maiden clad in a red dress looked on.
Kaiden returned moments later wearing a pair of gray sweatpants and a long-sleeved, V-necked T-shirt.
“There’s a small bathroom down the hall,” he said, pointing. “Go get out of those wet things.” He thrust a black velour bathrobe into her hands. “I’ll make you a cup of coffee while you change. Or would you rather have tea?”
“Coffee’s fine.” Sky hesitated a moment; then, with a shrug, she went into the bathroom. After kicking off her boots, she peeled off her jacket, jeans, and sweater. Her underwear wasn’t wet so she left it on. After towel-drying her hair, she slipped into the robe. It had to be his, she thought, belting it tightly. It smelled just like him.
He was waiting for her on the sofa when she returned to the living room. A round wooden tray bearing two coffee mugs, a sugar bowl, and cream pitcher waited on an end table.
“I’m afraid I can’t offer you any cake, burnt or otherwise,” he said with a wry grin.
“You’re not going to let me forget that, are you?” she muttered, taking a place beside him on the sofa.
“Sorry,” he said, stifling a grin.
“No, you’re not.”
He shrugged. “Are you warm enough?”
“Yes, the fire is wonderful.”
He handed her one of the cups. “Milk? Sugar?”
“Thanks.” She took a sip, her eyes widening. “What’s in this?”
“A bit of brandy to take away the chill.”
“Oh.”
He added a generous amount of sugar to his cup, then sat back, one arm draped over the sofa.
Sky noticed he was barefooted. It seemed oddly intimate, the two of them both sitting there in their bare feet, as if they had just made love and were relaxing in front of the fire... .
Sky felt her cheeks grow hot. Lordy, where had
that
thought come from?
that
thought come from?
“You look flushed,” Thorne remarked. “Is the fire too hot?”
“What? Oh, no, it’s ... I ... no.”
He nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Sky stared into her coffee cup to avoid his gaze. Good grief, did he know what she was thinking? But that was impossible. Wasn’t it?
Thorne pretended to watch the fire, but he was aware of the woman beside him with every fiber of his being. Less than twenty-four hours ago, he had acknowledged that the best thing he could do for Skylynn was to stay away from her, yet here she was, in his house, at his invitation, within arm’s reach. What the hell was he thinking?
The answer was, he wasn’t thinking. His lust and his hunger had combined to override his common sense and now all he could think about was Skylynn, sitting quietly beside him, ripe for the taking.
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