Heartbreaker
“WE NEED TO BE THINKING OF A PLAN TO GET OUT OF THIS CAVE,” SHE SAID, EVEN AS SHE BATTLED THE URGE TO WRAP HER ARMS AROUND HIS NECK.
He pulled her closer, and she went without even a token protest.
“Know what? Plan or no plan, until the water goes down, we’re stuck.” The warmth of his breath feathered across her lips.
“We are?” She wanted to bridge the fraction of an inch that separated their mouths more than she had ever wanted to do anything in her life.
“Unless you were joking about us not being able to fit through that passage.” His voice was husky.
“No.”
“I didn’t think so.” His nose touched hers. It was a nothing touch, really, quick and elusive, probably accidental. It sent fire shooting clear down to Lynn’s toes.
“Jess,” she said, and stopped because she had forgotten what she was going to say. One thought filled her mind to the exclusion of all else: She wanted to kiss him. She wanted to make love to him. Badly.
With a sound that was part moan, part sigh, she slid her arms around his neck and gave herself up to Jess.
HIGH PRAISE FOR KAREN ROBARDS’S PREVIOUS NOVELS
HUNTER’S MOON
“EXCITING … A real thriller and the most wonderful story … Ms. Robards writes with a graceful flair.”
—
The Literary Times
“THE ENDING IS SO SHOCKING IT’LL KNOCK THE READER BACK WITH SURPRISE … the story line will send shivers down the spine. All of this and steamy passion leaves the reader riveted with action-packed suspense and heartwarming emotions.”
—
Rendezvous
“Karen Robards has surpassed her own high standards with
Hunter’s Moon
. Whodunit remains a puzzling mystery until the riveting and surprising climax.”
—
Gothic Journal
“AN ENGROSSING TALE of passion, intrigue, and murder. Fans of Robards’s previous books will not be disappointed.”
—
Booklist
“THE SEX IS UNBRIDLED, UNHARNESSED AND UNSTOPPABLE.”
—
Kirkus Reviews
WALKING AFTER MIDNIGHT
“EXPLOSIVE AND SURPRISING … Once started, you won’t be able to put it down.”
—
Rendezvous
“Karen Robards masterfully creates a unique and memorable romantic suspense novel. The story is imbued with the perfect combination of humor and supernatural happenings.”
—
Affaire de Coeur
“Within the first few pages, the reader is hooked.… Robards writes with a brisk, action-packed style.”
—
Baton Rouge Magazine
“SPELLBINDING … Great romance, a handsome hero, vicious villains and a plucky heroine.”
—
Ocala Star Banner
(Fla.)
“THIS IS A MUST READ.”
—
Cadiz Record
(Ky.)
“AN ENTERTAINING PAGE-TURNER.”
—
Brazosport Facts
(Tex.)
Also by Karen Robards
GHOST MOON
THE MIDNIGHT HOUR
THE SENATOR’S WIFE
HUNTER’S MOON
WALKING AFTER MIDNIGHT
MAGGY’S CHILD
ONE SUMMER
NOBODY’S ANGEL
THIS SIDE OF HEAVEN
FORBIDDEN LOVE
SEA FIRE
ISLAND FLAME
Published by
Dell Publishing
a division of
Random House, Inc.
Copyright © 1997 by Karen Robards
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. For information address: Delacorte Press, New York, New York.
The trademark Dell® is registered in the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office.
eISBN: 978-0-307-80150-0
v3.1
This book is dedicated to my newest son, John
Hamilton Robards, born November 16, 1995
.
It is also dedicated, with much love,
to Doug, Peter, and Christopher
.
Contents
P
ROLOGUE
June 19, 1996
3:00
P.M
.
“A
RE YOU READY TO DIE?
”
Jess Feldman exchanged glances with his brother, Owen, and tried to sidestep the wild-eyed man who suddenly blocked their path.
“I said, are you ready to die?” The man stayed with them, his voice rising an octave. One of a group of sign-carrying marchers in front of Salt Lake City’s airport, he was fortyish, balding, wearing a cheap gray polyester suit, a yellowing white shirt, and an ancient-looking black tie.
“Bug off,” Jess said, not gently, as Owen caught the sleeve of his plaid flannel shirt and dragged him past.
“Repent!” the man screamed after them. “The end of the world is at hand!”
“Oh, yeah?” Jess tossed back over his shoulder. Owen towed him forward implacably. “When?”
“June twenty-third, nineteen ninety-six, sinner! At nine
A.M.
!”
A police car with flashing lights pulled up to the curb. The doomsayer turned away.
“Talk about specific,” Jess said to his brother. “I wonder what happens to these guys when they make a prediction like that and the world doesn’t end on schedule?”
Owen shrugged. “Predict again, I guess. Come on, we don’t want to be late for the guests. This group’s from a swanky girls’ school in Chicago, remember.”
“That’s my kind of group,” Jess said with a grin.
As Owen pulled him through the double doors Jess glanced back. A pair of uniformed cops talked to the marchers. One of their signs drooped his way. Jess read it.
REPENT!
THE END OF
THE WORLD
IS
AT HAND!
Beneath the warning was a bloodred heart, broken in two, with one half toppled over on its side. Under the heart were the words
LOVE HEALS
.
“Bunch of nuts,” Jess muttered, shaking his head. Then the big glass doors closed behind him and he forgot all about them.
June 19, 1996
11:45
P.M
.
“S
OMEONE’S OUT THERE
.”
Sixteen-year-old Theresa Stewart dropped the edge of the faded yellow gingham curtain and backed away from the window. Her voice was hushed, fearful. Outside, the vast, mountainous wilderness that surrounded the trio of ramshackle cabins had been swallowed up by night. Hidden deep in the folds of Utah’s Uinta National Forest, the abandoned mining camp had felt like a sanctuary. More than once Theresa had overheard her father reassure her mother that they were unfindable.
Now, for the first time since the Stewarts had moved into the structure eight months ago, there were strangers outside. Moonlight had silhouetted them briefly as they had stepped from the forest into the clearing surrounding the camp. Theresa had seen three of them, possibly more.
“Probably a bear.” Theresa’s mother, Sally, looked up from the rocking chair where she was nursing Elijah, the youngest of the seven Stewart children. Elijah was six months old, a plump, happy baby, and Sally was in the process of weaning him. But she still liked to nurse him just before putting him down for the night. He slept better that way, she said.
“Mother, it isn’t a bear. I saw men coming out of the woods.”
“Probably just some campers then. It’s summer, you know. We don’t have the forest totally to ourselves like we did during the cold weather.”
Sally sat in front of the fire that was the cabin’s only source of warmth as well as illumination. Despite her reassuring words there was an underlying tension in her voice. She, Theresa, and the four youngest children were alone in the cabin. Michael, her husband, had taken the two older boys and gone to Provo to conduct some business and pick up supplies. He would not be back until the following day.
“I don’t think they’re campers.” Theresa’s voice was hushed as she moved to stand beside her mother. The cabin was small, two rooms on the ground floor with a sleeping loft above. She stood almost in the center of the large front room, which suddenly seemed alive with shadows, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. Terror, raw and primitive, rose like bile in her throat.
Theresa didn’t know how she knew who was out there. She just knew.