Love at First Sight (15 page)

And oh, what a face she had. So sweet, her eyes liquid emotion, her lips full and soft and so inviting—

“I want to make love with you,” she whispered. “It’s unbearable being this close to you and not touching, not kissing you, not—”

He could smell her scent as she moved closer, her body warm beneath the gown, the silk slick and cool against his skin. Her body molded to him. Then her lips. Pure sweetness. Just a little taste. Like a dusting of powdered sugar.

He knew he should stop her before she turned up the heat. Before he got caught in the fire between them and couldn’t get out. But suddenly her kiss was pure sweet confectionery and he was warm taffy in her hands.

With a groan he pulled her even closer, kissing her as she had kissed him. Sweet and soft. Hard and hot. He’d never felt such desire. He’d never wanted a woman the way he wanted her.

She slipped a hand behind his head and drew him down to her breast. The nipple leaped at the touch of his tongue, straining against the thin fabric. He drew the rosy hard tip into his mouth and suckled gently. She moaned, her head back, the moonlight on her face.

“Jack, please, make love to me.”

He looked down into her eyes and knew he was lost. He knew what he was about to do was far worse than digging up graves but he couldn’t stop himself. He wanted her. He’d wanted her since the first time he’d seen her.

And he couldn’t have turned back, even if he’d wanted to. For in that instant in time, he believed his own lie. He swept his wife up in his arms and carried her to their bedroom.

Jack woke in the early afternoon with Karen in his arms. He looked down at her incredible face and felt a tidal wave of emotion that threatened to drown him.

He lay for a moment trying to wade through those emotions. But one kept pulling him under. Guilt. It drowned out everything else, leaving him confused and afraid.

He’d made love to her, letting her believe they were married. Something he’d promised himself he wouldn’t do. Couldn’t do. And yet, he’d never wanted anyone more in his life.

To make his guilt worse, he didn’t regret making love to her. How could he regret something so wonderful? He told himself it had been because he’d bought into his own lie. He’d truly felt “married” to her. He’d
been caught up in that whole two becoming one thing. And it had been incredible.

But while he couldn’t regret what they’d done, he couldn’t forgive himself. Just as he knew Karen wouldn’t be able to when her memory returned.

All told, he felt rotten. Was rotten. He feared he had destroyed whatever they could have had together.

He tried not to think what that might have been or how remarkable and rare it was as he slipped his arms from around her.

She moaned softly in her sleep, the sound tugging at him like an undertow. The strength of that pull scared him. He already felt shaken from their lovemaking—and afraid. Afraid for Karen because of the killer after her. Afraid of the hurt she’d feel when she learned the truth about the man she thought was her husband. Just afraid he would have to pay an unbearable price for what he’d done. That price, he feared, was losing Karen.

She moaned softly and flung an arm out as if reaching for him. He stared down at the hand now resting on his bare chest. The sparkle of his grandmother’s wedding band gleaming like fool’s gold. He closed his eyes, the pain too much.

After a few moments, Karen seemed to fall into a peaceful sleep again. He opened his eyes and gently lifted her hand, trying desperately to ignore the sensations her touch evoked in him as he slipped from the bed.

He scooped up his hurriedly discarded clothing and left the bedroom, leaving Karen in the big bed they’d shared. Telling himself he didn’t want to wake her because she needed her sleep.

The truth was, he didn’t want to face her this morning. What would he say? He’d taken his lie too far. He’d let himself become too involved with this woman. Worse, he knew how this would end. He felt a hard, cold ache of heartbreak, knowing that he’d just put the kiss of death on what could have been.

He wanted to confess, to make himself feel better. To end it now before he caused either of them more pain. But doing that would surely jeopardize Karen’s life. That was the one thing he would not do.

He glanced at his watch, surprised to see how late it was. Early afternoon. Not that many hours before the third and final, he hoped, meeting with the third person who’d responded to Karen’s ad. He had to concentrate on that right now.

He didn’t believe for a moment that the meeting was anything more than a last-ditch attempt to draw Karen out and kill her. But he had a plan.

He picked up his cell phone and, taking it outside, he made his first call.

“I have Karen Sutton,” he said when Detective Captain Brad Baxter answered. “I’m bringing her to the third meeting.”

Silence.

Jack hoped Baxter had a little cop in him. But even the politician in the man would want this case solved. And Baxter had to know, just as Karen had pointed out, that unless the killer believed she’d be there, he had no reason to show.

The best way to get the word out, considering that Jack suspected a leak in the police department, was to
tell Baxter. He’d gear up for a worst-case scenario. Word would spread. The killer, hopefully, would hear that Karen would be there.

“If I see you I will have you arrested for obstructing justice,” Baxter said without much force.

“Seems fair,” Jack said and hung up.

Baxter hadn’t threatened. Hadn’t even raised his voice. But then he probably hadn’t heard about the grave Jack and Karen had dug up last night. Yet. Nor did he know just how far Jack planned to go to get the killer.

Jack called Denny at the hospital next. “I’ll be by soon. I just wanted to let you know that I’m taking Karen to the third meeting. It’s the only way to draw out the killer and Karen insisted.”

Denny chuckled. “Sure. Just don’t try to sell me any Arizona oceanfront property, all right.”

Jack knew Denny wouldn’t believe it, but he’d had to try. And if he was dead wrong and Denny had killed Liz? Well, Denny was in the hospital, laid up. He was no threat to Karen.

Not that Jack could believe Denny had killed Liz. Or that he would harm Karen. But Denny had lied to him about a woman a few years back. It was that lie, like a tiny crack in a dike, that worried at Jack.

“You talked to Vandermullen?” Denny sounded anxious.

He didn’t want to give his friend false hope. “There’s a chance your daughter is still alive.”

Denny let out a sound so filled with emotion that it tore at Jack’s heart. “I’ll tell you everything when I see you.”

The third call was to the only man Jack trusted to leave with Karen.

K
AREN WOKE TO THE EMPTY BED
, Jack’s side still warm, his imprint still visible in the mattress. She placed her hand on the spot where he’d been, remembering last night, relishing in it. Her body felt as if it glowed with an inner fire that Jack had ignited. It blazed still, warm and comforting even without him close by. She only wished she’d found herself in his arms this morning and they’d made love again, refueling that already-burning fire.

So where was her husband? She sat up, wondering if he was in the kitchen making breakfast. She sniffed. No bacon frying. No sound coming from that direction.

Slipping from the bed, she pulled on his robe and went to find him. Immediately she realized he wasn’t in the lodge. But through the front window, she could see him out by the rock wall with his cell phone pressed to his ear.

The danger he’d said she was in came back in a rush of secondhand memory. She knew just by the set of his broad shoulders that whatever he was doing had to do with the Liz Jones murder case. And her. Her husband wouldn’t be able to rest until the killer was caught. She’d seen the worry in his eyes, felt the restlessness in him and sensed him holding back. Was he afraid to love her too much for fear of losing her?

But at least for a while she had made him forget the murder. Forget everything but the two of them. It had been heaven. She smiled at the memory of the hours they’d spent making love. For her, it had felt like the very first time with him. And amazingly, Jack seemed just as surprised by the wonder of it.

She couldn’t believe how good they were together. How they had found each other and now had the kind of passion she’d only dreamed of. She’d known they had to have had a great sex life. She’d felt the chemistry between them and hadn’t been able to wait to make love with him.

Oh, how she wanted to take her husband back to bed this morning. She opened the front door and padded barefoot out onto the small porch. After all, they were on their honeymoon, weren’t they?

“Jack?” she called.

He turned and for an instant, she saw his love shining in those brown eyes, then he dropped that protective cover she’d seen before, mouthed a few words into the phone and pocketing the cell phone, walked toward her.

“I have some police business I need to take care of,” he said before she could invite him back to bed. She could feel the distance he was trying so hard to put between them. But she could also feel him weakening at just the sight of her. As if he ached to touch her. She started to reach for him, knowing once they were in each other’s arms—

But she didn’t. “I’ll get dressed and we can go,” she said quickly and started back toward the bedroom.

“No,” he said, making her spin back around to face him. “This is something I have to do alone.”

“On our honeymoon?” she asked, her voice cracking. It wasn’t that he was leaving her alone. It was the look in his eyes. The wall he was trying so hard to construct between them. Why? What was he so afraid of? It couldn’t be them, their marriage. Not after last night.

“I have to be at the last meeting today,” he said. “I have to find the killer, Karen.”

Before he finds you.
He didn’t say the words, but she heard them in his look.

She nodded. He was just trying to protect her. Nothing was wrong between them. She forced herself to smile. “I know you’re doing it for me.”

He nodded. “Are you hungry? I could make you some breakfast before I leave.”

She would have liked that. But it wasn’t food she wanted. She wanted Jack and it was clear he was anxious to be on his way. “No, you go on and get your business finished. I can manage.” She saw him hesitate. He really didn’t want to leave her. “I was hoping to explore the chalet today, anyway.”

That seemed to do the trick. He smiled then, knowing how much she loved the old things Crazy Uncle Chuck had collected, and stepped to her, planting a quick kiss on her forehead. “I’m not leaving you alone. I called—”

“Jack, I don’t need a babysitter,” she said, touched by his concern but not wanting a stranger around. The truth was, it made her feel more vulnerable. “I feel safe here and no one even knows about this place, right?”

He nodded and smiled. “I know I’m probably being a little overprotective—”

“A little?” she asked, raising a brow, glad to see some of the worry fade in his gaze, some of the reinforcements come down from the wall between them. “Have you told Denny about the baby yet?”

“I’m stopping by there,” he said. “I just hate to get his hopes up, you know?”

She knew. For a moment, their gazes met, but Jack pulled away, stepped away.
Let him finish this case,
she told herself.
Let him realize nothing is going to happen to you. You’ll always be with him. Always.

In the distance she could hear the whine of an engine as a vehicle climbed the mountain toward them.

“I’m going to go, then,” he said, sounding relieved.

“Tell your friend to make himself at home,” she said, not wanting to deal with company. She needed to be alone with her thoughts today. She wanted to think only about their lovemaking. Only about the love she’d seen in Jack’s eyes.

The chalet would be the perfect place to spend the rest of the afternoon. It was like finding lost treasure, all the wonderful old things. In them she felt a connection with the past. A solid foundation as if each generation built something for the next. Like the cabinetry she constructed. Something that would last.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Jack said, obviously distracted as he headed for his Jeep.

“Be careful,” she called after him. “I love you, Jack.”

He didn’t turn around. Maybe he hadn’t heard her.

She stared after him, his broad shoulders, the muscled back, his long legs, all so familiar now. How she ached to hold her husband and not let him go.

For just an instant, she felt such a terrible sense of foreboding she wanted desperately to call him back. It was such an odd feeling. She told herself being married to a cop she had to get used to him being in dangerous situations. But she knew it was more than that. This feeling that she might never see him again, that some
thing would happen while he was gone that would separate them forever felt like a warning, an omen.

She shook it off. When had she started believing in premonitions? But she would have called Jack back. Would have begged him not to go—if she’d thought he would have listened. If she thought he could have stayed with her.

But a part of her knew her husband. Knew he had to go. Until the killer was caught, Jack Adams wasn’t going to let himself love her. Not the way her heart promised her that he wanted to.

So she watched him leave and prayed the killer would be caught soon. She needed her husband. And Jack needed her. Maybe he just didn’t realize how much yet.

J
ACK DROVE AWAY
, sick inside. “I love you, Jack.” Her last words echoed in his head, in his heart, filling him with guilt and shame. He’d done things he wasn’t necessarily proud of, but he’d never been a coward. Or a liar. Or a thief.

He’d stolen her heart in the most despicable way, destined to break it.
Let her memory come back,
he prayed.
Let her remember the killer before it’s too late.
Karen’s safety was all that mattered. Even if it meant losing her.

He told himself he couldn’t think about any of that now. He had to catch the killer. Stop him before he got to Karen. Jack drove to the hospital, determined to put an end to all the lies tonight when he returned to the lodge and Karen, no matter what happened today. He couldn’t take any more. He couldn’t lie to her anymore.

Denny looked better, but still weak. Still vulnerable. Jack knew it had more to do with worrying about his daughter than the physical effects of his injury.

“I can’t believe you dug up the grave,” Denny said, sounding impressed rather than horrified. “That was something like what I would do.”

It was true. Denny had always been the hothead, the one in trouble. So why was Jack now about to lose his job, his career? He still couldn’t understand what it was between him and Baxter, some animosity he’d never understood.

“Once we saw that someone had already started digging—”

“You’re kidding,” Denny said. “Did you see who it was?”

Jack shook his head and told Denny about the person who’d taken a shot at them. “Someone didn’t want us to know that the only thing in that casket was a doll.”

“A doll?” Denny asked in surprise.

“Karen thinks it was Liz’s from when she was a girl.”

Denny’s eyes widened slightly, his jaw tightened. “Vandermullen.”

“He had to be in on it,” Jack agreed. “But Liz must have agreed to go along with the plan to give up the baby for adoption. She wouldn’t have been looking for your daughter if she hadn’t known about it, right?”

“But why?” Denny asked, sounding in pain. “Why didn’t she tell me about the baby? Why did she give her up?”