“I realize there’s some kind of psychic vibe going on here. But there might be a very straightforward explanation involving the resonating frequencies of our auras. Or something.”
He touched the corner of her mouth. “I’m the expert here. If I wanted a para-physics explanation for what’s going on between us, I’d have come up with it. But I don’t need one. I love you. I have from the moment you stepped out of Dixon’s water taxi. It was as if I’d been waiting for you all of my life and you had finally decided to show up.”
Warmth and wonder sparkled through her. “Oh, Sam.”
“You were like some fabulous new crystal, glowing with unknown fire and mystery. And you were in danger, and I had so much damn baggage.”
“Well, to be fair, I had a lot of baggage, too.”
“I know. Someone was trying to grab you.”
“That wasn’t the kind of baggage I meant,” she said. “I’m talking about more serious baggage.”
“What the hell is more serious than someone trying to kidnap you?”
She cleared her throat. “I have never been one to take risks when it comes to romantic relationships.”
“Oh, yeah, right. The commitment-and-trust-issues thing.”
“Yes. But I’ve always suspected that the shrinks and the counselors were wrong. I was pretty sure that I was just waiting for the right man to walk into my life. I knew I’d recognize him, you see.”
Sam traced her bottom lip with one finger. “Did you?”
“The instant I turned and saw you coming toward me along the dock that first day. I recognized you, but I told myself I had gotten it all wrong. There was so much drama going on all around us. Everything was happening way too fast. For Pete’s sake, we had sex the first night that we were together. I never do things like that.”
“We made love that first night. Big difference.”
“Sure, but at the time all I could focus on was the weird feeling that there was some kind of psychic connection forming between us. It was very confusing. I was afraid to trust what my senses were telling me. But now I know that what was really going on was that I was falling head over heels in love with you.”
He drew her mouth down to his. Abby felt him open his senses. She responded, heightening her own talent. The kiss was dark and profound, the kind of kiss that sealed a vow.
The heat built quickly. Energy burned in the room. Sam rolled Abby onto her back and came down on top of her. She pulled him close, savoring the weight of him crushing her into the bedding. The power that charged his aura challenged and aroused and thrilled her in ways that she could not begin to explain or understand. She knew on some level that he was as compelled and captivated by her energy as she was by his.
Sam raised his head so that his mouth was only an inch or so above hers. In the shadows, his eyes heated.
“You and me,” he said. “Forever.”
She wrapped her arms around him. “Forever.”
He took her mouth again. The night burned. So did the Phoenix ring.
She awoke to the muffled whine of an impatient dog.
“Newton,” she said.
“Your turn,” Sam said into the pillow. “I let him out.”
“Okay, okay. But definitely a dog door.”
“For sure. This week.”
She got out of the warm bed, wrapped her robe around herself and slid her cold toes into her slippers. She left the bedroom, went downstairs into the kitchen and opened the door.
Newton trotted over the threshold and paused, radiating a hopeful air.
“All right,” Abby said. “You’re a hero. I guess you deserve a snack.”
She opened the bag of doggy treats, took out a goodie and tossed it to Newton. He seized it out of midair and crunched with enthusiasm.
When he was finished, they both went back upstairs. Abby heard the chimes of her phone just as she arrived in the bedroom doorway.
“What in the world?” she said.
Sam levered himself up on one elbow. “Your phone.”
“Yes, I figured that much out all by myself.”
She grabbed the phone off the bedside table and looked at the glowing screen.
“I don’t believe it,” she said. “It’s Diana.”
“At this hour?” Sam grumbled. “It’s four o’clock in the morning.”
Abby took the call.
“If this is about Dawson and that book he wanted me to find for his client…” she began.
“Abby, shut up and listen to me.” Diana’s voice rose to a near-hysterical pitch. “Dawson has been kidnapped.”
“What?” Abby’s stomach clenched. “Please tell me this is some kind of really sick joke.”
“I just got a call demanding a ransom.”
“Let me guess. The lab book?”
“He’s going to murder Dawson if you don’t give him that damned book. Dawson’s life is in your hands.”
“You said we needed a plan,” Abby said. “I just gave you one.”
“It’s a lousy plan,” Sam said.
“Got a better one?”
“No. And yours just might work if we tweak it a bit.”
46
DAWSON WAS SLUMPED IN A CHAIR IN THE YACHT’S MAIN cabin. His wrists were fastened behind him. His legs were bound to the legs of the chair. He looked up when Abby walked on board. Disbelief flashed across his face.
“What the hell are you doing here, Abby?” he said. “I told him that you wouldn’t come.”
The good-looking, sandy-haired man with the gun chuckled. “But I was sure she would. She’s your sister, after all.”
“Stepsister,” Dawson said dully. “I explained that she’s not a blood relative. She doesn’t even like me.”
“But you’re all part of Dr. Radwell’s modern blended family, his family by choice. I admit I don’t get the family-loyalty thing, but it can certainly prove useful.”
Abby stopped just inside the cabin, the package containing the lab book in her hands. She looked at the man with the gun. He was polished and well groomed, the kind of a man who was at ease with money and the sort of people who possessed a lot of it. His open, classically handsome features invited trust. He was dressed from head to toe in iconic yachting attire, a dark blue polo shirt, well-cut white trousers and deck shoes. The ring on his hand was set with a large diamond. The watch was gold, the kind of timepiece that, according to the ads, was meant to be handed down to the next generation. The ads did not usually mention that in a pinch the watch could be pawned to buy a ticket to a no–name island if the Feds came to the door.
“You must be Lander Knox,” Abby said.
“So you figured that out, did you?” Lander looked amused.
“Sam Coppersmith is the one who worked out your real identity.”
“I see. Well, no harm done. When this is over, I will disappear again, just like I did a few years ago, when I wanted everyone to think that I was dead.”
Dawson shook his head. “You shouldn’t have come, Abby. He’s a total psycho. Now he’ll kill both of us.”
“No,” Lander said. “I’m not going to kill either of you, not unless you force me to take extreme measures.”
“Bullshit,” Dawson muttered.
“Why should I kill you or your sister?” Lander asked, in a voice of perfect reason. “She followed all the rules
