Part 24 (1/2)

The satin fell down her arm. A tiny whimper escaped her tightly closed mouth and she hated herself for showing him her fear. She was fourteen all over again, powerless and afraid.

No, she wasn't.

She wasn't fourteen and she wasn't going to let him make her feel that way all over again. In some still-sane part of her mind, she guessed he'd have shot her already, if that had been his plan. And he must know she was right when she'd said two murders would look suspicious.

He wasn't going to kill her. Not right now, anyway. He was toying with her, s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g with her head, like he always had.

But it wasn't going to work. Not this time.

With a guttural growl, Kate hurled the bedclothes toward him, catching him off guard. Springing from the bed, she bounded across the room. Knowing the search for a weapon would be futile, she armed herself with venom.

”Get the f.u.c.k out, you filthy, murdering b.a.s.t.a.r.d.” Spittle flew from her lips. Her eyes burned into his. ”Go ahead, shoot me. I dare you.”

Darryl raised his gun hand so she was in his line of sight. Kate's breath caught in her throat. The dull gleam of the barrel in the meager light looked even more menacing. Trying to ignore the fear that immobilized her, she lifted her chin and stared at Darryl, putting all the hatred she felt for him into a single deadly look.

”Do it.” Her voice was a hoa.r.s.e whisper in the utter stillness.

Darryl stared at her, unmoving. For long moments, the only sound in the room was their harsh breathing. The hand holding the gun wavered and then lowered. Darryl's gaze fell away.

She swallowed the surge of relief that threatened to undo her and strode to the door. Flinging it open, she stepped well away as Darryl stalked toward her. His lower lip was thrust out and fury glittered in his eyes. He looked like a child who'd been bested in a game, but Kate didn't make the mistake of thinking she'd won. A wounded animal would be even more ferocious at the next encounter.

His sleeve brushed her bare arm and she s.h.i.+vered and tore it away. With a final deadly stare in her direction, he strode out of the room. She slammed the door behind him and this time made double-sure the deadlock and chain was secured. After drawing the curtains, she collapsed onto the bed and gave in to the shock that seized her.

s.h.i.+vering violently, she tugged at the covers and rolled herself in them, rocking back and forth in an effort to get warm. She kept hearing Darryl's voice, whispering, tormenting. Over and over she saw the gun waving under her nose like an evil black flag.

Clamping her hands around her ears, she screwed her eyes tightly shut, trying to block the sounds and images that threatened to overwhelm her. A low moan started deep inside her and climbed up her throat. Burying her head in the pillows, she screamed and screamed and screamed.

CHAPTER 24.

Riley pulled up outside Kate's motel room and cut the engine. It was barely seven, but not a hint of light escaped from the drawn curtains. He frowned in consternation. Maybe she'd gone out?

A quick survey of the car park showed her rental car two doors down. He quickly discounted the idea that she'd walked. The temperature had dropped rapidly with the coming night, hinting at snow. It wasn't an evening to be out in if you had a choice, even for a Londoner.

Climbing out of the car, he reached inside for his jacket and shrugged it on. With a last glance around the quiet car park, he strode to her door and knocked briskly on the wooden panel.

Silence greeted him. Moving across to the curtained window, he pressed his head against the gla.s.s and tried to see in, but the thick fabric was impenetrable. Stepping back to the door, he knocked again.

”Kate? It's Riley. Are you in there?”

More silence. A car door closed behind him and he whirled around to see an elderly woman adjusting her seatbelt in the pa.s.senger's side of a small sedan. An equally elderly man walked around to the driver's side. He offered Riley a brief wave. Riley acknowledged it with an even briefer nod.

Turning back, Riley tried the door again. She had to be in there. Where else would she be, on foot, on a night like this? She'd told him it was urgent, but he'd been busy chasing up phone calls and a part of him hadn't wanted her to think he was at her beck and call. Childish, he knew, but he was still confused about her feelings for him and was wary of getting his heart involved.

So, he'd left it for as long as he could. He'd finished his s.h.i.+ft a little after six and had spent time catching up with the general duties officers downstairs. When he'd finally left the station, he found himself turning toward her motel. And here he was, outside her room. Only, it appeared she wasn't in.

Pressing his ear against the door, he strained to hear something, anything, behind the closed panel.

”Kate? Please let me know if you're in there. Just let me know you're okay. If you don't want to talk to me, that's fine. I just want to know you're all right.”

He was about to walk away when he heard it-the tiniest whimper of sound, a moan, a hiccup-he wasn't sure, but it was definitely a sound of distress. He pounded harder against the door.

”Kate, it's me. Riley. Open up. I know you're in there.”

He waited interminable minutes. A light came on behind the curtains. Finally, he heard the click of the lock and the jingle of the chain.

The door cracked open. A lamp on the nightstand illuminated her from behind. He reared back in shock at the sight of her.

”Christ, Kate! What the f.u.c.k happened? Are you all right?”

She looked away self-consciously and covered her swollen eyes. Her hair hung messy and loose around her drooping shoulders. She looked lost and alone. She looked defeated.

A fierce protectiveness overwhelmed him. For so long, she'd remained strong, invincible, convinced from the outset her stepfather was responsible. And now, just as the evidence was beginning to prove her right, her confidence had deserted her and in its place he saw a vulnerability that touched him more than anything ever had.

Easing the door open, he stepped inside and closed it behind him. Flicking the deadlock, he turned to face her.

She'd turned away from him and now stared blindly at the blank television screen, her arms wound tightly around her waist. He tried not to focus on the pale pink nightgown that hung in soft, satiny folds on her body.

”Kate, please tell me what happened. Was it Darryl? Did you see him again?”

Her body looked taut enough to snap. She still refused to look at him. Riley moved closer and took hold of her elbow and gently turned her to face him.

Unshed tears glittered in her eyes and a brief nod was all she managed before her face crumpled and her shoulders heaved.

He stepped forward without thought or hesitation, knowing only that he needed to help her, hold her, offer her comfort. She collapsed against him and he folded her in his arms and drew her close. Unlike the previous times, her weeping was quiet, controlled, weary, as if she'd already spent countless hours crying-and from the look of her, she had.

He stroked her hair away from her face, his hand far from steady as it slid through the tangle of long, silky strands. The fall of Gwyneth Paltrow-blond across his fingers was as soft as a cascade of rose petals and smelled just as good.

Her sobs gentled and she pressed herself tighter against him. His breath caught. He cursed under his breath at his bulky jacket that created a barrier between them.

She seemed to understand his frustration. Easing out of his arms, she raised her hands to his chest and pushed at the offending garment. He aided her by shrugging the jacket off his shoulders and flinging it to the floor.

She came back up against him hard. Her arms went around his neck and she pulled his head down to hers. Unable to resist her unspoken invitation, Riley bent his head and kissed her.

The heat of it stole his breath. Her spicy scent of cinnamon and frangipani and freshly shampooed hair filled his senses and made his head spin. Her lips moved beneath his, warm and pliant and when his tongue pressed, seeking entry, he groaned aloud when her mouth opened.

She tasted of toothpaste and sweet, warm woman. His hands moved to cup her b.r.e.a.s.t.s through the thin silk of her nightdress. His fingers found her nipples and she shuddered. His thumbs stroked back and forth until they felt like little pebbles.

She moaned into his mouth. His c.o.c.k pulsed with need. Christ, he was going to explode.

Pulling his mouth away from hers, he rested his forehead on the top of her head, gasping for breath as he fought for control. A pulse beat a frantic rhythm in the side of her neck. It pleased him to see her breathing was just as erratic as his.

Remembering the state he'd found her, he set her slightly away from him and caught her gaze. ”Do you want to talk?”

She shook her head. Her gaze remained on his. She stepped back into the circle of his arms and once again reached for him.

”No talk,” she murmured against his mouth, her lips opening under his. This time, it was her tongue that pressed insistently against his teeth until he gave in to the overwhelming desire to let her kiss him like she wanted to.