The Gilded Cuff (21 page)

T
he hellish glow of the flames made the horizon look as though it was on fire. Sophie’s world zeroed in on that one raging inferno.

“Drive faster!” she shouted at Royce. He slammed his foot on the Maserati’s gas pedal.

She prayed they’d get there in time.

“Oh god,” Hayden gasped from the backseat. “It’s the old brewery.”

Royce screeched to a halt on the street where the factory had been, far enough away to keep the car from becoming part of the inferno.

As she jumped out of the car, Sophie raised a hand as if to shield herself from the scorching heat. Her insides clenched and her instincts screamed that Emery was somewhere inside the brewery.

“That’s Emery’s car,” Wes shouted as he pointed toward the Mercedes parked twenty feet farther up the street.

Sophie sprinted toward the warehouse, but nearly tripped over two smoke-tinged bodies. Dropping to her knees, she turned them over.

Cody and Hans.

Royce, Wes, and Hayden joined her, helping to lift the bodies and drag them away from the fire.

Cody’s eyes opened and he fought for breath. “Sophie…bomb…” He coughed violently and couldn’t seem to get out anything else before he slipped back into unconsciousness.

“Bomb?” Sophie and Hayden spoke at the same time. They all turned to look back at the burning factory.

Something wild and ferocious rose up inside her. A beast of rage and pain roared deep in her heart. She knew Emery was still inside, dying, perhaps already dead. But she couldn’t stand by and watch.

Never again.

She would find him, or she would die trying to get him out.

Sophie stood and ran toward the burning edifice. Black smoke curled amidst the flames, which were licking destructive paths to block her way. But it didn’t matter. She’d cross the fires of hell for him.

The others were shouting, their voices distant and muted. She didn’t listen. The brewery door hung open, half hanging from its bottom hinge, and she was so close.

Strong arms banded around her waist and hauled her back several feet. She screamed, clawed, fought savagely to get free. Emery was in there. She couldn’t leave him alone to die. She had to get him out; she had to save him.

She hadn’t saved Rachel. There was no way she’d survive failing someone else.

In the midst of her panicked fighting she realized it was Wes who held her captive.

“Damn you! Let me go!” she screeched, throwing her legs and arms out to shake herself free, but he didn’t release her, even when her elbow hit his eye.

“You’ll get killed. He’d never forgive me,” he snarled back as he fought to contain her flailing limbs.

“No! I have to find him. He can’t…he can’t be alone.”

She tried to ram her elbow into his side but he twisted his body and she missed.

The brewery shook and part of the roof collapsed, blasting her with a cloud of thick smoke. He dragged her back another ten feet and only then did she run out of strength.

All around them the fire raged and smoke swirled in smothering clouds.

Darkness, such awful darkness. The one person she’d ever truly trusted with herself, since Rachel, was gone. Somewhere in the crumbling, burning rubble lay the man she loved.

Loved
.

Yes. She loved him. She’d never loved anyone else the way she did him. She’d spent her whole life being an outsider, with the weight of secrets and tragedies holding her down. Then she’d met him. He’d sent those secrets tumbling off her shoulders and stolen her heart with his tender yet fierce, unrelenting passion.

Before Emery, life had been a pretty dream, like walking through a museum and seeing the world through the lovely scenes and painted, false faces. But there was no truth in that, only imaginings.

Emery was real. Each smile, each husky laugh, each ragged breath he’d drawn against her neck as they’d made love the night before. That was real, that was true. He was so much more than anything she could have dreamed of. He had wanted her, all of her, even the parts of herself she’d tried to hide. She’d never forget the way his eyes had flashed with desire and pride as he admired her naked body. So wounded, so scarred, yet he’d still needed her.

There had never been any illusions with him. He saw her for what she really was and still wanted her. How often was someone fortunate enough to find a soul so attuned to theirs that they were accepted and wanted without any pretenses or expectations?

He was her guiding star and she’d lost him. How could she go through life without the light of the stars to show her the way home?

“I’m so sorry, Sophie,” Wes whispered. His voice broke and his grip on her body tightened as though he had to cling to someone. Strange how death could unite two strangers. They both mourned the man lost among the ashes.

Wes slid a hand over her face, brushing back her hair, the touch soothing, brotherly. That comfort only made the pain worse. His arms around her vibrated, as though the tragedy of losing his friend had forced him out of control. The dancing flames played with the shadows on his handsome face, creating hollows around his eyes and below his cheekbones that made his features look like a macabre skull. He inhaled a slow deep breath and dropped his gaze from the fire. She raised her eyes to his, seeing her own pain mirrored in his gaze. She opened her mouth to speak, not even sure of what she could say.

“Wes,” a hoarse voice growled, “get your hands off my woman.”

They both turned to stare at the man who emerged from the smoke and gloom at the side of the brewery. For a second she couldn’t move, couldn’t think beyond what she was seeing. Wes dropped his arms from her body.

“You’re alive!” she gasped.

Soaking wet, cut and bruised, Emery was the most wonderful thing she’d ever seen. The sobs came without warning and she could barely see him as tears blinded her. He started toward her but she was already there, throwing herself against him. They fell back to the ground. He grunted softly beneath her, and curled his arms around her waist, keeping her against him. Sophie buried her face in his throat, inhaling his scent. She continued to choke down little sobs, hiccupping and feeling pathetic but unable control herself.

“Shh…” He smoothed his large palms over her back, rubbing her in slow strokes as he tried to soothe her. His chest was warm and damp against her cheek. The rapid double thump of his heart against her ear was the sweetest sound she’d ever heard. This wasn’t a dream. He was here, alive—how she didn’t know.

“What the hell happened, Emery?” Wes knelt next to them and looked Emery over in obvious concern, his eyes taking in the tattered state of Emery’s clothes. Sophie curled her fingers in his shirt, holding on to him. Two pairs of legs appeared as Hayden and Royce joined them.

“Hans and I found Cody. He said something about getting out of there, but it was only a minute later I found the bomb.”

Emery drew in a slow breath, the action raising his chest and Sophie along with it.

“It was a trap. Whoever took Cody meant for me to come here so they could blow this place up with me inside.” Emery stroked her hair and she listened as he talked about finding Cody and the laptop.

“The bastard put C-4 all over the ceiling. I jumped through the window and landed in a huge vat of water just as it exploded. Lucky break for me. I almost didn’t make it. One of the beams had me pinned. I nearly drowned before I got my jacket off.” Emery’s grip around her tightened. She pressed her lips against his throat, tasting cold water and his slightly salty skin.

“So let me get this straight.” Royce chuckled. “You narrowly escaped being blown to bits all over Long Island and you were worried about a little drowning?”

The laugh that escaped Emery’s lips was filled with relief; the tension in him seemed to dissipate. Sophie found the ability to breathe again.

“Well, when you put it that way…” He lifted himself up to sit and he took Sophie with him, tucking her in his lap as they faced the others. Hayden’s eyes were wide with worry. She talked a tough game, but it was obvious she’d never suffered through something like this before. A sheltered life often left one unprepared for harsher realities. Sophie offered Hayden a weak smile, which seemed to calm her friend somewhat.

Emery glanced around. “Are Cody and Hans here? They went out a few minutes ahead of me, but I don’t know if they got out.”

“They’re pretty banged up.” Royce helped Emery and Sophie stand. “They weren’t as close to the blast, but they didn’t have the water to shelter them. Cody’s in bad shape; looks like someone gave him a serious beat down.”

Hayden held up her cell. “I called an ambulance. It should be here any minute.” No sooner had she spoken then an ambulance came roaring up the road, sirens blaring and lights flashing.

“Damn, Emery, you are one lucky son of a bitch. I’m glad you’re okay.” Royce slapped Emery’s shoulder, making him wince. “Sorry.” Royce laughed.

Emery smiled as he nuzzled Sophie’s cheek and hugged her tight. She burrowed into him again, unable to resist the need to touch him. So long as she held him, he couldn’t die, couldn’t vanish, couldn’t leave her alone. Last night had forged a connection between them that would take years to undo. The fear and panic she’d felt at losing him had nearly destroyed her, would have if he hadn’t walked out of the smoke and taken her into his arms. Like a phoenix from the ashes, he had returned to her.

Afternoon sun cut through the windows of Emery’s bedroom. The pale gold curtains pulled back on either side glowed and cast warm colored shapes over the bed. Emery had slept only a few hours before waking again. Plagued by worries and memories, he couldn’t stay asleep or even rest. It felt all too familiar—the trauma, the tragedy, wounds. They’d spent half the night at the hospital with the police, giving statements about what had happened. Only then had he been able to bring Sophie home and take her to bed.

She’d trembled and clung to him as he’d simply held her for several long moments, breathing in her welcome scent and feeling her heart beat against his chest.

“I thought I’d lost you,” she whispered. “I was dying inside. Then you came out of the smoke and I could breathe again.” He saw the fear in her eyes, the stark pain and the slow realization that she wasn’t emotionally distant from him, and that seemed to scare her just as much as the thought of losing him.

Cupping her face in his hands, he rubbed his nose against hers in a sweet little Eskimo kiss, trying to get her to smile. But when she did, it was tremulous.

“I’m okay, sweetheart. I’m right here, just a little battered, but fine. And you’re safe here with me. We’ll get through this.” He dropped his hands to her waist, holding her close, wanting every bit of his body to touch hers. The connection between them was so strong, he felt invisible threads twining around his heart and securing him to this brave woman he’d come to think of as his,
only
his.

Sophie feathered her lips over his and his blood rushed to all the right places. God, he needed her, needed to hold her, to possess her, to share himself with her. After thinking he’d die in that dark vat of water, pinned helpless, drowning, he vowed the first thing he’d do was get her alone and brand her as his and seek comfort in her kiss and her touch.

“Sophie, I want you.” He murmured in her ear as he traced her spine with gentle fingertips. Her response was to tug at his t-shirt, lifting it up from his waist and over his shoulders. He let her remove it and then he pulled her shirt off as well. They were stripping each other piece by piece, not rushing, but not delaying either. His jeans, then hers…When they were completely naked, he lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist, her calves resting high on his buttocks as he walked the few feet to the wall by the bed. Using the wall and his body, he trapped her against it, holding her up with one hand on her ass. The other he used to position his cock. When he was ready, he thrust in hard. Her head fell back and he leaned in, kissing and nipping the exposed skin of her neck and shoulder as he hammered his hips against hers.

The feel of her around him—silken heat, breathless sighs, and husky moans—was a fantasy he’d never imagined with any woman before. He claimed her, marking her with his love bites, and proving to himself and to her that he was very much alive. She came first, crying out his name, and it was nirvana to his ears. He shouted when his body seemed to melt from the inside out; his balls drew up tight and he spent himself inside her. With any other woman, that would have been enough; he’d have let her go and walked away.

Not with Sophie. A deep contentment filled him as he remained connected to her, feeling her wild heart beat in rhythm with his, their shared breaths and souls seeming to whisper to each other through the portals of their eyes.

“Take me to bed,” she pleaded and sealed her request with a tender kiss that was more heart than heat. His legs shook as emotions rolled through him, but he carried her to his bed and set her down. With quick but unsteady movements, he shut off the lights and joined her in bed.

The second he had her in his arms again, he made love to her a second time. Slow and deep. He buried himself inside her again and again, his eyes locked on hers as he lost himself. She’d taken him over, ripped his soul out and replaced it with something strange: heat, compassion, hunger, a need to never be without her. She was his and he’d never let her go. Like a wolf with his mate, he would protect her with his last breath.

He loved the way she fell asleep while he was still inside her. She purred softly, like a pleased kitten, and drifted off. He kissed her cheek hugged her close. He managed a couple hours of rest, but he couldn’t really sleep.