Midnight Sins (35 page)

these calls,” he stated then. “And if I were you, I’d

definitely tell Rafer. And then, it would be advisable,

Ms. Flannigan, to sever the relationship building

between the two of you.”

He was once again the arrogant, coldly

commanding Marshal Roberts. The man who had

disowned his grandson. The one who had stood

stony-eyed at his daughter’s grave site, his son at his

side, his granddaughter held in his arms as he

deliberately separated himself from his only

grandson.

“You can advise all you want, Mr. Roberts,” she

told him with a sense of resignation. “Just as I advise

Rafer on a constant basis, but it all comes down to

him.” She grimaced, admitting to the one person she

knew would never tell her secret. “I have an incredibly

hard time telling your grandson ‘no’.”

For a second, just a second, his expression

seemed to soften. The image of an old man who

knew his grandson well flashed across his face. And if

she wasn’t entirely mistaken, there was a glimmer of

pride as well.

“My wife, God rest her soul, told me the same

thing once when we were very young,” he admitted,

his gaze connecting with hers in a moment that

seemed more connected than she would have liked

with this man. “Take care of your yourself, Ms.

Flannigan. And should Rafe not take no for an

answer, then at least insist that he take careful

measure of the security surrounding both of you.”

There was an edge to the words, a deliberate

warning that had her arms dropping from her breasts

as she confronted him.

“Is that a threat?” she asked carefully.

His gaze was heavy with shadows, and she

suspected, knowledge. But it was a knowledge he

was refusing to admit to.

“Regardless of belief, I’m no threat to my

grandson,” he told her. “But that doesn’t mean there

isn’t a threat that follows the Callahan family. A curse

perhaps?” he suggested warily.

“You won’t threaten him, but you won’t save him

either, is what you’re saying?” she guessed.

“I didn’t say that.” Now the anger was back. “I

would never stand idly by and allow my grandson to

be harmed any more than I stood idly and allowed my

granddaughter to die.”

Cami could feel something in the air between

them then, a tension that didn’t make sense, as

though he were trying to tell her something, warn her

of something.

“But Sam and Mina Callahan’s deaths were an

accident,” she posed carefully. “Weren’t they?”

“Of course they were.” Emotionless. There was

no inflection in his voice. “And this conversation never

occurred.”

Her brow arched. “Do you think no one took

notice of your pick-up, Mr. Robert?”

“It’s one of my ranch hands’.” He shrugged. “And

think of this, Ms. Flannigan. To this point, I’ve actually

been one of Rafer’s most staunch allies. Don’t make

me his strongest enemy.”

Replacing the western hat on his head, he tilted

the brim to fully shade his face before moving past her

and unlocking the door.

He paused once again as she watched him

silently. “I’m rather good at choosing those I reach out

to,” he stated quietly. “You’ve hidden the loss of your

child all these years, I suspect, to save Rafer from

further pain.”

Cami breathed in roughly, the fact that he had

realized that somehow easing a wound she hadn’t

known she carried.

“What’s your point?” she asked, unable to hide

the evidence of the tears that would come later.

“My point?” He finally turned his head to stare

back at her. “I rather suspect you’ll tell no one of this

visit. Unfortunately the one you need to hide it from the

most will be the very one you ache to tell. Telling Rafer

I was here could be a rather bad idea.”

Cami pushed her fingers wearily through her hair

and blew out a hard, irritated breath. “If you know

Rafer anywhere near as well as I do, then you know

damned good and well he’s going to know exactly

who it was, no matter the precautions you took. What

the hell makes you think for a minute he can be fooled

so easily?”

His eyes narrowed. “He doesn’t read minds.”

“He doesn’t have to,” she told him softly. “He has

eyes and ears that no one suspects, Mr. Roberts. In

forcing Rafer and his cousins to hide friendships and

connections, you forced them to create bonds and

spies. Have no doubt, for even a second, he’ll know,

eventually. And then, I guess we’ll both have to deal

with it.”

Silent, almost moody, he glared back at her

before nodding shortly. Pulling the door open, he

stepped to the porch, the panel closing quietly behind

him.

As Cami walked over and secured each lock,

she heard the truck start, and a second later, the

sound of it pulling away from the side of the street

could be heard.

How very, very strange, she thought.

And like Marshal Roberts, she truly hoped Rafer

never, ever learned he was there.

That wouldn’t necessarily be a good thing.

CHAPTER 11

She was suffering.

Cami lay stretched out on the bed, a sheen of

perspiration on her flesh several nights later her eyes

closed. Need swamped her as she gritted her teeth

and cursed Rafe until hell wouldn’t have had him

several days later.

Because she was miserable. Because no matter

how hard she tried, she couldn’t fight the burning

arousal tormenting her.

The supple, firm vibrator lay pushed beneath her

pillow, useless to her now. There had been a time

when it had actually worked. When dragging it along

the bare folds of her pussy had taken her close

enough to the remembered feel of Rafe’s fingers and

tongue on her flesh to allow her to work it slowly inside

her cunt and, long minutes later, to find the release

she so desperately needed. There had been a time

when she had known he wasn’t close enough to go to,

and her body had allowed a little alternate pleasure.

It simply didn’t work anymore.

The feel of the battery-operated toy wasn’t even

close to the feel of his fingers and tongue, let alone

the sensation of his cock working inside her. The

heated stretch and burn of his iron-hard flesh was so

much more extreme. It was thicker, hotter, throbbing

inside her powerfully instead of the weak, pale

imitation of the artificial vibrator. He had ruined her,

that was all there was to it. No other man, no other

touch would do.

She gritted her teeth and bit off a furious

expulsion of breath. She was too scared it would turn

into a scream of pure frustration. Because she was so

damned horny she was on the verge of calling him

and begging him to fuck her.

She could jump in her car; it wouldn’t take that

long to drive to his ranch. There were still some icy

spots on the road, but most of the snow had actually

been removed. She could knock on his door again

and spend the night letting him fuck this need for him

out of her system.

Sitting up in the bed, she propped her elbows on

her knees and pushed her fingers through her hair,

further ruffling the shortened strands as the hardened

bud of her clit throbbed in misery.

If she could just get off a little bit, then it would

help. Just take the damned pressure off or something.

No matter how hard she tried, no matter how long she

tried, it wasn’t happening.

If she just hadn’t been so insane as to take the

mountain road that night and find herself snowbound

with him. She wouldn’t be in this position. She

wouldn’t be aching for him until she was certain it

would drive her insane. Or was this why she had taken

the longer, more mountainous route home from Aspen

rather than the more direct drive along the interstate?

Had that building need, that hunger she couldn’t

control, been working on her subconsciously?

Creating a situation that left her with little choice?

Because consciously she had known what would

happen if she were to be stranded at the ranch. She

had known the need pulling at her would have taken

care of the rest.

The hunger was a craving that never seemed to

completely dissipate. She was like an addict, strung

out in desperation for that next hit. Her body

demanding its fix.

That was how she felt. Addicted to Rafer

Callahan. Now wasn’t that a fine fix to find herself in.

As she cursed herself silently for the weakness,

the low, muted buzz of her phone on the bed stand

had her reaching out quickly for it and pressing the

call button.

It could be the nursing home calling about her

mother. Cami hadn’t heard from them all week. She

could have checked the caller ID, but she didn’t want

to know it wasn’t Rafer. She wanted to hope, to

believe, until the last possible second—

“Hello?”

“I’m at the back door; let me in.”

Rafe.

Her eyes closed as her heart immediately began

racing in a hard, excited rhythm. Her body

immediately sensitized further. She could feel her

heart racing, demanding as though the need had

somehow summoned him. He was there, a dark male

hunger rasping his already deep voice.

Hunger flooded her system, stronger, hotter than

ever as she felt her juices flooding the flushed, heated

tissue of her pussy.

“You shouldn’t be here, Rafer. Go home.” It was

all she could do to push the words past her lips and

make the demand.

“Do you have company, Cambria?” The silky

menace in his tone assured her it was a damn good

thing she did not have company. The dominance in it

had her breathing increasing; the sense of

possession and determination rolling across the line

shouldn’t have been so erotic.

“No, I don’t have company.” Pushing her fingers

through the shortened strands of her hair, she

clenched her thighs against the increased ache. “I’m

sleeping.”

“Open the back door or I’m coming to the front.

And I’ll knock until you answer baby or until your

neighbors call the sheriff. Take your pick.

“I can promise the gossip will be as juicy as that

lush little pussy of yours.” The words were an erotic

warning. An explicit, completely arousing promise.

Because her pussy was wet.

“Damn you, Rafe.” She disconnected the call,

tossed the phone across the bed and jumped from it,

to race from the bedroom to the backdoor.