Unsafe Haven (22 page)

Denn folded his cell phone and pocketed it. “She’ll be home in a couple of hours. Jo’s letting her give the babies a bath. I could almost hear her doing a happy jig.”

He raised his brows at Kendall’s enthused applause. “What’s so exciting about that?”

“You’d have to be there. Luna sees it as a personal triumph. She’s been campaigning for more responsibility all week.” Kendall settled into his arms with a smile. “This has been good for her, don’t you think? Your little sister is growing up.”

“Don’t remind me.” He shuddered. “It was easier when she was eight and I could keep her under my thumb.” Brushing Kendall’s hair from her neck, he kissed her soft skin, inhaling lavishly. “God, you smell great.”

She sighed and arched her neck to give him better access. Her body pressed against him, a slender yet shapely temptation. He filled his hands with soft curls that clung to his fingers, pulled her close, then kissed her gently. Her generous response grounded him even as his need for her flared out of control. On a groan, he parted her lips and took the kiss deep.

Endless seconds later, she eased away, breathless. She pressed her open mouth to his ear. “Two hours?” Her teeth caught his lobe and nipped, hard.

Every muscle in his body tightened. “Yeah.” Abruptly, he rose from the sofa and grasped her hands, tugging until she stood. Silently, he lifted her, and she wrapped herself around him as he carried her down the hall toward his room.

They fell to his bed, a tangle of arms and legs, and breathless laughter. Kendall pushed him to his back and busied herself with buttons and a zipper, ridding him of his clothing in record time. She sat back on her heels and stared at him, naked but for his socks, one rolled to his ankle and the other bunched around his toes.

He raised his head and viewed the length of his body. “I look like a dork. Eighty-six the socks, please.”

“Nope. I like them.” She grabbed the bunched sock and tugged it back in place, then rolled the top until she had a matched set. “Aww, see how cute you are. I wish I had a camera.”

“You always want a camera when you’re making me look silly.” His head dropped to the pillow in defeat, but his smile widened until it threatened to split his face in two. Nothing made him happier than Kendall, lusty and playful at the same time.

He tucked his arms behind his head and flicked his eyes over her. “You’ve got five seconds to remove my socks and get yourself nude before I pay you back.”

“Pay me back, huh? What’re you going to do, pull my panties over my head and give me a power wedgie?” She scoffed, but he noticed she scuttled backward, placing herself just past his reach. “You’re out of luck, buddy.”

“And why is that?”

She replied smugly, “Because I’m not wearing any panties.”

Denn tensed at the visual her teasing words provided, and growled, “I’ll have to see this for myself. You might be trying to talk your way out of a wedgie.” He reared from the pillow, grabbed for her bright blue shorts and had them down her legs and tossed to the floor before she could suck in a breath. He ran his hands under her white tank top and found bare warm flesh, then whipped the thin cotton over her head and added it to the discarded shorts.

He pinned her in the rumpled sheets, taking in the sight of her, flushed and grinning, a feast for his eyes. From the top of her sun-streaked hair to the tips of her peach-painted toes, nothing tempted him the way Kendall did. When she lay beneath him and trust shone from her eyes, acceptance in every touch she gave him, he believed once more in love, in forever.

He cupped her face, stroked her cheeks, feathered kisses over her lids, and smiled when her lashes blinked against his lips. He closed his eyes and let the sudden blindness guide him along her neck, across one arm, to her palm, a sensual kind of Braille. She cupped his chin as he lingered there. He tasted the warmth between her breasts, the darker flavor of that patch of skin. His fingers journeyed the same path and touched the moistness left behind by his questing tongue. She sighed, and he felt her skin vibrate against his hand.

Passion still ruled him but tenderness tempered it down to a manageable level as he kissed her, caressed her. Her difficult past, never far from his mind when he loved her, kept him from overwhelming and possibly frightening her. Someday she’d welcome his driving insanity, but for now, it was enough to take her slowly, easily.

Then she clamped her body to his, pulled him down until he was sure he must be smothering her. His eyes flew open and met hers, and the blaze in their blue depths scorched him. She twined her legs around him, high on his back, then shoved her hands in his hair and gripped the strands hard enough to make him gasp. She took advantage of his open mouth with one searing kiss. He couldn’t draw enough breath to release the groan building in his lungs. It slammed through him, matched his stuttering pulse.

Denn caught her hips between his trembling hands and plunged deep. Then deeper, until he couldn’t tell where her flesh ended and his began. He dropped his face into her hair and let her rule the speed of his thrusts. And when she gripped him, when her body arched into his and her soft moans became a single cry echoing in the room, he joyously followed.

And emptied his body, offered his heart, pledged his soul.

In the quiet ease of aftermath, he stared into her damp eyes. She offered a smile he gladly returned as he basked in the warmth and promise reflected on her face. He couldn’t have held anything back, much less the words that tumbled from his lips, still swollen from her kisses.

“Marry me, Kendall.”

At her soft gasp, he drew in a fortifying breath. “I mean it.”

“Marry you?” Kendall didn’t think she’d heard him correctly. “Me. You want to marry me.” She shook her head to clear it. “Denn . . .”

“You shouldn’t be surprised, sweetheart.” His eyes remained on hers, steady and sure. “I’m a traditional kind of guy. I’m in love with you. I want a life, with you.” Denn cupped her chin, brought her close and kissed her. His lips were so gentle, so beguiling. She raised her hand, slid her fingers under his hair, and gripped his nape as the kiss spun out.

He eased away, and her eyes flickered open. The way he regarded her, tender and patient . . . She tried to speak but her voice thinned to a whisper. “You don’t know, Denn. There’s a lot I haven’t told you about myself.”

“I know all kinds of things about you.” He caught her free hand, threaded his fingers through hers, and pressed their palms together. “You like Pepsi, hate Seven-Up. Won’t eat orange veggies, love anything green. You refuse to watch films featuring dogs because you always cry. Your favorite color is yellow, your favorite Nirvana song is ‘Smells like Teen Spirit,’ and it’s your favorite because every time you hear the title, it cracks you up.” He traced the grin she couldn’t hold inside. “See, there it is.”

She hid her reluctant smile against his bicep. “That’s just random stuff, Denn.”

“Well, random stuff tells the most about people, but I can do specific.” He held her hips and shifted until he faced her, sharing one pillow, their bodies still intimately joined. He murmured, “You had a standing date with your father, twice a month. Your favorite place to hang out together was the Hoyt Arboretum. You’d bring a sack lunch, walk the trails, wander the entire day.”

Her eyes filled with tears at the mention of her father, and Denn kissed them away. “The first meal your mother taught you how to make was macaroni and cheese with those little mini hot dogs. You’d have practice dinners with your parents, serve them mac and cheese with wienies and drink Pepsi out of their fancy wine glasses. Once, during one of these dinners, you spilled your drink all over your mother’s best Irish linen tablecloth and chipped the glass. You thought she’d flip out and punish you, but instead she hugged you because you cooked for her.”

“Oh, Denn . . .” She couldn’t believe he’d remembered some of her ramblings, especially when he’d had to just about pry them out of her. Her arm tightened around his neck.

“I’m not finished.” He caressed her gently. “You watch Luna when she tests, to make sure the meter’s working properly. You put my vitamins on a napkin for me at the table so I won’t forget to take them after supper. You always pet Fake’s mangy, smelly old dog even though no one else will go near it. Every day, I see you do countless things for those you care about, and most of all, you love my baby sister. Is that enough for you?”

“Yes, but . . .” More tears formed, spilled over. She couldn’t control them, and moved restlessly. “I have to—could you—” She wriggled against him and he loosened his arms until she could maneuver some space for herself. She sighed as he slipped free.

She pulled the covers over her shoulder and rested her head on the pillow. “You don’t even know my real name. You don’t know what—” Kendall tried, and failed, to swallow the lump of panic that collected in her dry throat. “You just don’t know.”

“So, tell me. With everything I already know about you, nothing else you say will make a difference. Can’t you see? It won’t matter.” Denn tucked her head beneath his chin.

Kendall parted her lips to speak and instead, breathed him in. Her tight throat eased.

He cradled the back of her head. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

As if from a distance, she heard her voice, a splintered rasp. “My name is—was—Victoria Wyndham. You wouldn’t believe how much money I spent to obliterate it from the system. Roy’s full name is Conroy Herington, and to get away from him, I blackmailed his mother, Evelyn. I had photos of my—my—injuries, a sample of Roy’s DNA. Also a restraining order she later paid to have nullified. But I kept a copy. And I told her if Roy ever found me, I’d ruin him. The Heringtons are a big deal in Portland. I told her the family’s name, their reputation, would suffer. She didn’t want to believe me, but I convinced her.”

“How?”

“I showed her the damages.”

“I don’t believe you. My son is kind, loving, upstanding.” Evelyn Herington stared at the photos Victoria placed in her hands. “These photographs are obviously not genuine.” She threw them to the floor. “The Heringtons are scions of the community. I can have you arrested for slander.”

“And I can have Conroy arrested for attempted murder.” Victoria ached from head to toe. The scarf she’d medicated with a topical numbing agent and wrapped around her neck didn’t help much. The lacerations on her back, while shallow, stung. She’d removed the bandages Conroy had so tenderly applied, revolted by his falsely solicitous manner. She’d donned a loose robe in an attempt to keep anything from sticking to her healing back.

Victoria’s muscles protested when she forced her spine to straighten. She needed to rest and recuperate in bed. But Victoria wasn’t about to let Evelyn walk away until she got what she wanted: Conroy, out of her life. Forever.

“I see you’re no different from other girls my son has consorted with. I thought you a well-mannered, polite child who’d be an asset to this family, but you’re just another gold digger.” Evelyn spun on her heel and strode across the foyer. “You accomplished nothing with your demands. Were they still alive, your parents would be ashamed at your behavior and your accusations, in their own home.”

“Oh, they’d be ashamed, all right. But not because of me.” Victoria swallowed the pain of hearing her parents mentioned so flippantly and managed to reach the door before Evelyn. She unwound the scarf, baring her throat to Evelyn’s shocked gaze. “Take a good look, Mrs. Herington. This is what your ‘scion’ of a son did to me.”

As Evelyn gasped, staring in horror, one hand covering her mouth, Victoria pulled her robe off her shoulders, and revealed every laceration scattered across her back.

“Oh, my God,” Evelyn moaned. “Oh, child.” At the rustle behind her, Victoria turned to see Evelyn slide to the floor, limp. Her face crumpled, suddenly showing its age, and tears filled her carefully made-up eyes.

Kendall rested her head against Denn’s shoulder, weary from dredging up memories she’d kept buried. “Once she saw for herself what I’d suffered at Roy’s hands, his mother agreed to everything I asked for. I think she finally understood what her son was capable of. And it helped she’d had some affection for me to begin with.”

“That’s not the end of it,” Denn stated quietly.

“No. I’d found skin under my nails, after Roy brought me home. I must have scratched his hands. I scraped what I could into a baggie and labeled it as DNA evidence.”

She could still recall swaying in front of the sink, Conroy’s bandages pulling at the skin of her back and her throat on fire, running a damned file under her nails. “I tried to think of everything, even though I was on the verge of collapse. I used my cell phone to take photos of myself in the mirror and I downloaded them to my laptop, then printed off copies. I bundled all of it into a folder for safekeeping. The last thing I did was to call Robert, my parents’ financial advisor. I asked him to pay the bills indefinitely.”

“Didn’t he wonder why?”

“Yes, I’m sure he did. But he’d always been loyal to me and to my parents. I gave him a vague story about post-death depression and needing to get away. Given my family’s closeness, he never questioned I’d be grieving heavily after three years. And as far as I know, Robert’s still keeping up the bills.”

“Where’s the folder now?”

“Locked up and safe. I protect it with my life because it won me my freedom.”

Denn studied her closely, and she met his gaze unflinchingly. He pressed a kiss to each of her cheeks, one to her mouth, lingering, comforting touches. “And yet I recall you telling me Roy found you in Pendleton.”

“Roy didn’t. His mother located me. Evelyn knew I moved east, but I’d never told her where. We’d exchanged a few emails, and maybe that’s how she found me. I had one of those untraceable, disposable cell phones. I’d used it once and spoken to her. Evelyn’s a smart woman and might have figured out a way to trace it. She called me, told me Roy hadn’t given up and was employing investigators to find me. Told me it was only a matter of time and urged me to run as far as I could.”

“Your family home . . .” His voice trailed off when she shook her head.