Dark Rider (46 page)

She desperately wanted him to touch her, but she was afraid she would flow into his arms and all would be lost. She had to remain in control of the situation, or he would destroy himself. “I can’t convince you to leave me?”

“Not in the next hundred years.”

“Very well.” She moistened her lips. “I’ll let you stay, but it will be on my terms. There will be no marriage.”

He gazed at her, waiting.

“We will talk. We will take walks. We will play cards and chess.”

“Whatever you want. Is that all?”

“No, we will couple.”

A wide smile illuminated his face. “Anything else?”

“Babies. I like babies. Then when you leave me—”

“I like babies too.”

“But you must not feel it’s necessary to stay with me because I have children. My people love babies for themselves, not because of words said over them by the Church.”

“I won’t feel it necessary to stay with you,” he promised. “Anything else?”

She shook her head. “But you must not speak of marriage.”

“Oh, I won’t.” He smiled and held out his hand to her. “Not for a long, long time. Maybe after our third child is born.”

She gazed at him in despair. What could you do with a man like Bradford?

Love him, take care of him, reach out to him.

Reach out to life.

She took his hand.

Lightning seared the night sky to the east.

Not tonight, Cassie prayed. The horses had settled down wonderfully in the cargo hold, but a storm would mean she would have to spend the night with them.

The storm was far away, though; maybe it would skirt around them.

She paused outside Jared’s cabin and dropped her cloak to the deck. She took a deep breath and opened the door.

He was sitting at the desk, fully dressed, his back to her.

“You’re not ready for me,” she said.

He went still, the line of his spine rigid. He slowly turned in the chair to face her.

His gaze traveled from her bare feet, to her sarong-swathed hips, and then to her bare breasts. He said hoarsely, “I didn’t know I was supposed to be.”

She closed the door behind her. “It’s all right. Things are a little different now, anyway. I even wore a cloak.”

“I’m honored.” His tone was guarded.

“Well, it’s very chilly outside.” She shook her head. “No, that’s not true. It’s still difficult for me not to put up barriers against you. I did it because I knew the seamen seeing me naked made you unhappy.”

“I appreciate your consideration. My temper is a little frayed these days.”

“Then we’ll have to do something to repair it.” She moved toward him across the cabin. “I have a suggestion.” She stopped before him and took his hand. “You’re usually very relaxed afterward.” She put his hand on her breast.

A long shudder went through him. “What the devil are you doing here?”

“I don’t think I could make it any plainer.” Her hands went to the knot of her sarong. “But I’ll try.”

He snatched her hand away. “Stop it. This isn’t the time.… Christ, what am I saying?”

“Foolishness.”

He ran his fingers through his hair. “I think you’re right. I should just reach out and grab … No, goddammit;
it has to be right this time.” He pulled her down to her knees on the floor in front of him. “Is it lust? Did you come here because it’s the
Josephine
and it’s what you became accustomed to doing? Because if it is, then you can just get out of here …” He muttered, “Maybe.”

“There will always be lust.” Her smile faded. “But that’s not why I’m here.” It was time. It had to be said, but she couldn’t look at him when she said it. She laid her cheek on his knees. “I … love you. It would please me if you would marry me. I’d like to live with you all my life. I’d like you to give me children.” Her throat was tight with tears and she tried to joke. “If you do, I promise I’ll even let you ride Kapu.”

“Then how could I resist?” She was suddenly on his lap, his face buried in her breasts. “God, I love you. I was afraid it would take months to get you to—” His words were muffled. “I didn’t know what to do.”

She held him fiercely close. She would never let him go again. She said shakily, “You did very well.”

He lifted his head, and his blue eyes were gleaming with mischief. “I can do better.” His fingers fumbled with the knot of her sarong. “Now that I know you’re not just using me to quench your—”

The door of the cabin was flung open. “You’ve got to come quick!”

They both turned in astonishment to see Josette standing in the doorway.

“There’s a storm coming. Can’t you feel this deck pitching?” Josette said. “I’ve been trying to quiet them, but I need you.” She suddenly became aware of Cassie’s dishabille. “Oh, an orgy? How interesting. Well, you can do it later. Is that your sarong? You’re
right, it’s much more shocking than my trousers. You must let me wear it sometime.” She frowned as she returned to more important concerns. “Don’t just sit there. I need help with the horses.” She turned and vanished from the open doorway.

“I’m going to throw her overboard,” Jared said through his teeth.

Cassie was still dazed. “She stowed away?”

“She must have sailed down the coast in her boat and managed to hide herself in the cargo hold before we arrived here.” Jared stood up and put Cassie on her feet. “God in heaven, what am I going to do with her?”

Cassie started to laugh; she couldn’t help it. Life would never go as expected for them. There would always be twists and turns, storms and sunlight. Well, what of it? Serenity would probably bore them both.

“Exactly what she told us to do. We’re going to help her with the horses.” She took his hand and lovingly smiled into his eyes. “And have our orgy later.”

IRIS JOHANSEN, who has more than twenty-five million copies of her books in print, has won many awards for her achievements in writing. The bestselling author of
Firestorm, Dead Aim, No One to Trust, Final Target, Body of Lies, The Search, The Killing Game, The Face of Deception, Long After Midnight, And Then You Die
, and
The Ugly Duckling
, she lives near Atlanta, Georgia, where she is currently at work on a new novel.

Joe watched the body wrapped in a dark green tarp being carefully lifted from the grave by the forensic team.

“Thanks for coming, Quinn.” Detective Christy Lollack was walking toward him. “I know it’s not your case but I needed you. This is a weird one.”

“What’s weird about it?”

“Look at her.” She moved toward the stretcher where the corpse had been placed. “The kids who found her nearly threw up.”

He followed her and watched as she drew back the tarp.

There was no face. Only a skull remained. Yet from the neck down the cadaver was only slightly decayed and intact.

“It appears someone didn’t want her identified.” He looked down at her hands. “He bungled it. He should
have taken the hands. We’ll be able to get a fingerprint match right away. DNA will take longer, but that will—”

“Her fingertips are burned,” Christy interrupted. “No prints. Trevor warned me there wouldn’t be any.”

“Who?”

“Some Scotland Yard inspector. Mark Trevor. He sent an e-mail to the department after he read about the Dorothy Millbruk case in Birmingham and the captain dumped it in my lap. He evidently sent the same e-mail to most of the cities in the Southeast warning them that the perpetrator might be heading into their jurisdictions.”

Millbruk … It had been a sensational homicide of a prostitute that had taken place four months ago. Joe mentally went over the details he remembered. “The Millbruk case was no connection. It didn’t have the same MO. The woman was burned to death and left in a trash disposal.”

“But she didn’t have a face by the time the fire got through with her.”

“No attempt was made to keep the Birmingham police from finding out who she was. They were still able to check prints.” He shook his head. “Not the same killer, Christy.”

“I’m glad you’re so sure,” she said sarcastically. “Because I’m not. I don’t like this. What if he didn’t want us to make a connection? What if he peeled her face off to slow us down so that we wouldn’t know he’d moved into the area?”

“Possible.” His gaze narrowed on her face. “What do
you want from me, Christy? It’s not like you to ask for help.”

“As soon as forensics gets through with her, I want you to take the skull to Eve to find out what that woman looked like. I don’t want to wait until I find out who she is.”

It was the answer he’d expected. It wasn’t the first time he’d been asked to be a go-between for the department and Eve. She was probably the best forensic sculptor in the world and the captain wasn’t about to ignore a valuable asset. He shook his head. “No way. She’s backlogged and working her ass off right now. I’m not loading anything else on her.”

“We need to know, Joe.”

“And I don’t want her wearing herself out.”

“For God’s sake, do you think I’d ask you to do this if I didn’t think it was urgent? I like Eve. I’ve known her and Jane for almost as long as I’ve known you. I’m scared. It’s necessary, dammit.”

“Because of some nebulous tip from Scotland Yard? What the hell do they have to do with this?”

“Two cases in London. One in Liverpool. One in Brighton. They never caught the killer and they believe he moved from the U.K. to the U.S. three years ago.”

“Then they can wait for an ID or Eve to get out from under.”

Christy shook her head. “Come back to my car and I’ll pull up Trevor’s e-mail.”

“It’s not going to change my mind.”

“It might.” She headed for her car.

He hesitated and then followed her. She opened her laptop and accessed the e-mail.

“There it is. Read it and do what you like.” She turned away. “I’ve got work to finish up here.”

He scanned the letter and report and then flipped to the victim’s page.

He stiffened with shock. “Holy shit!”

She couldn’t breathe
.

No!

She would not die, she thought fiercely. She hadn’t come this far to lie forever in darkness. She was too young. She had too many things to do and see and be
.

Another turn and still no light at the end of the tunnel
.

Maybe there was no end
.

Maybe this was the end
.

It was so hot and there was no air
.

She could feel a scream of panic rising in her throat
.

Don’t give in. Panic was for cowards and she’d never been a coward
.

But dear God, it was hot. She couldn’t bear—

“Jane.” She was being shaken. “For God’s sake, wake up, baby. It’s only a dream.”

Not a dream.

“Dammit, wake up. You’re scaring me.”

Eve. Mustn’t scare Eve. Maybe it was a dream if she
said so. She forced her lids open and looked up into Eve’s worried face.

The worried frown was replaced by relief. “Whew, that must have been a doozy of a nightmare.” Eve’s hand stroked Jane’s hair back from her face. “Your bedroom door was closed and I still heard you groaning. Okay, now?”

“Fine.” She moistened her lips. “Sorry I bothered you.” Her heartbeat was steadying and the darkness was gone. Maybe it wouldn’t come back. Even if it did, she had to make sure it didn’t disturb Eve. “Go back to bed.”