Part 21 (1/2)

”What's in it?”

”A copy of the information we've collected from your dreams and the original police report. I'm hoping that's enough.”

”Maybe your friend Walker sent him the FBI report.”

”I don't think so. I told Lee I wanted this guy to look at the crime scene from a fresh perspective.”

”Are you going to tell him about the dreams?” Autumn asked.

”Not if I don't have to. I told Lee. I also told him some of what you've said has been corroborated, enough that I'm willing to pursue the matter. I'm not sure what he told Riker.”

They climbed a white wooden staircase that wound its way up the cliff to the house but made their way around to the side instead of going in. A bright red Jeep with four huge all-terrain tires sat in front of a line of five garages.

”One of Charlie's toys,” Ben explained. ”Fortunately, I get to use it.” He knew where the key was so they climbed in and snapped on their seat belts.

Several hours later, after a leisurely tour of Bainbridge Island and a stop for drinks in one of the local pubs to watch the sun go down, they started back toward the house.

The bad news was that Burt Riker hadn't called.

Which meant they would have to spend the night on Ben's boat.

Autumn's stomach knotted.

Eighteen.

”It's getting late,” Autumn said as the Jeep made its way along the narrow road winding through the trees. ”Maybe we should stop somewhere and get something to eat.”

”Good idea.” But instead of stopping at a restaurant, Ben pulled into one of the local markets, a small batt-and-board structure with the front door propped open and several cars parked in front.

”A grocery store?” Autumn said.

”That's right. I'm cooking you dinner aboard.”

”You're cooking? But the morning we had breakfast at my apartment, you said-”

”I said I hadn't had anyone cook for me in years. That's true. After my divorce, I got tired of eating out, so I learned how to cook for myself.”

He made her wait in the Jeep while he shopped, hoping to surprise her. It had been a wonderful day, but evening was setting in and during the time she sat in the car, her mood began to s.h.i.+ft.

She would be spending the night with Ben. He would be cooking her dinner. They would be drinking wine, enjoying an evening aboard his expensive yacht in a beautiful ocean setting.

She swallowed. All afternoon as they had explored the island, her mind had flashed images of the night they'd made love, of Ben's incredible, gloriously naked body. She remembered the feel of him pressing her down in the mattress, her nipples hard against the muscles in his chest as he moved inside her. She had done her best to block the memories, but they were creeping into her mind again.

For an instant, she panicked. She would make him take her home, tell him she had gotten a call on her cell phone. Something had come up and she needed to get back, a problem with her dad or maybe- Autumn sighed and leaned back in the seat. She was being ridiculous. Ben hadn't brought her to the island for seduction. After the first time, whenever they had been together he had been a perfect gentleman. She was the one with the problem, not Ben. Surely she could continue to maintain the polite distance he had kept between them all day.

As soon as they got back to the boat, Ben set to work in the galley and Autumn went to change into more comfortable clothes. She had brought loose-fitting lavender plush pants and a matching zip-front jacket in case they needed to stay, and she pulled the garments on gratefully, leaving her jeans and sweater in the smaller cabin, along with her shoes and canvas overnight bag.

Emerging from below, she found Ben busily dicing tomatoes and was.h.i.+ng lettuce for a salad. Water boiled in a pot on the small galley stove.

Autumn slid into the dining booth and Ben brought her a gla.s.s of Chianti. He still wore his jeans and soft knit s.h.i.+rt but like Autumn, he had taken off his shoes and was padding around the elegant-yet-cozy salon in his bare feet.

Nice feet, she thought with a smile, suntanned and masculine, his toenails neatly trimmed. As he prepared the meal, Autumn found herself watching him. With his dark hair, golden brown eyes and solid jaw, he was incredibly handsome.

She loved his body-the lean muscles and wide shoulders, the six-pack muscles across his ribs. Whenever he looked her way, her pulse took a leap. She remembered the feel of his strong hands as he had helped her aboard, remembered the tingle of his arm against her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and her stomach contracted.

”Hungry yet?”

”Starving,” she replied.

”How about doing the salad while I finish the pasta sauce?”

”Sure.” She made her way down the two steps into the galley, barely large enough for both of them to work. For an instant, she stepped in his way. Her breast came in contact with his powerful chest and her nipples contracted. A soft curl of warmth tugged low in her belly.

Autumn stood frozen, staring up into Ben's tawny eyes. She recognized the heat there, the glitter of desire he had kept well hidden until now.

”Ben...”

It was steamy in the galley, fragrant with the aroma of garlic and tomatoes and crusty French bread. Ben reached over and turned off the flame beneath the pot of water boiling on the stove.

”Dinner can wait.” Then he was kissing her and when she tried to pull away, he wouldn't stop.

”I'm not letting you run anymore,” he said softly. ”You want this as much as I do and we both know it.”

”You're wrong, Ben.”

”I'm right, Autumn.” Then his mouth was on hers, moving hotly, wet and fierce, a deep, taking, plundering kiss, his tongue sweeping in, stroking the inside of her mouth. Her legs went weak. Autumn clutched the front of his s.h.i.+rt as he backed her against the wall, his body holding hers immobile, pinning her against his tall frame.

When she tried to turn away, he caught her chin and kissed her until her lips softened and she opened to accept his tongue. For an instant, she wondered what he would do if she tried to make him stop, wondered if he would take what he wanted even if she said no.

The thought should have frightened her. Instead, all she could think was that if he took her, she would have an excuse for getting exactly what she wanted.

Ben ended the kiss before the notion went further. He was breathing hard, his golden eyes burning into her like flames.

”Tell me you want this, Autumn. By G.o.d, have the courage to admit it.”

She looked into his handsome face. ”I want this.” Reaching up, she shoved her trembling fingers into his thick dark hair. ”I'm going crazy with wanting, Ben. I want you to touch me all over. I want you inside me.”

Ben made a growling sound in his throat and then he was kissing her again and she was kissing him back. Their tongues tangled and mated. He unzipped the front of her jacket and reached inside to cup a breast. She had discarded her bra when she changed and the feel of his calloused hand against her bare skin sent a s.h.i.+ver of longing through her.

He slipped the top off her shoulders, then slid the loose-fitting pants down over her hips. She was left in only her pink thong and he dragged it down too, found her softness and began to stroke her.

Autumn moaned into his mouth.

Ben didn't bother to remove his clothes, just unzipped the fly of his jeans and released himself, lifted her, wrapped her legs around his waist and plunged himself inside her.

”Oh, G.o.d, Ben...”