splayed out like wild tongues of fire upon it. She had fantastic hair. So deep a red. It matched her so completely.
The covers were mostly over her. Not completely. One long leg lay exposed all the way up to the thigh. So what? he taunted himself.
He’d rescued her stark naked. Held her naked in his arms.
It had been a mistake to come here, God knew. A mistake to come back. He’d left, Hank had come, and now…
No, it hadn’t been a mistake. She might have been killed last night.
Or taken. But where?
He didn’t know yet.
By whom?
He couldn’t answer that one, either, even though he had a few suspicions.
For what reason?
Well, he had no guaranteed answer to that one, either, but he would damned well be willing to bet that someone wanted to find the
It seemed, however, that someone must have found it already. Someone who’d caused the disappearance of anyone else who came anywhere near it.
No, it hadn’t been a mistake to come. He had to be here. And he had to find the answers.
It was, however, a mistake to stand here, watching her sleep. It caused knots inside of him. It caused…
He muttered an expletive beneath his breath and turned away, starting down the hallway. Jem woke when he returned to the living room, and started to rise from the sofa.
Adam brought a finger to his lips. “I’m out of here,” he murmured.
“It’s pouring.”
“I know. I’ll dry.”
Jem grinned.
“Stay with her?”
“You bet.”
“I’m going to wash up, then I’ll be at the main house, studying in Justin’s library.”
The rain came in buckets.
It was pleasant, Jim Santino thought. He’d slept deeply, in absolute comfort.
Of course, the fact that Sukee had arrived somewhere around two o’clock had added to that comfort. He hadn’t been expecting her; she made no bones about the fact that she was a woman with her own mind, a woman of the world. She’d been with O’Connor when he’d last seen her.
But apparently, Jim thought with amusement, that hadn’t quite worked out. O’Connor was interested in their hostess, it seemed. Not a bad idea. She’d intrigued Jim, the more so the more he saw of her. He grinned. Maybe it was just the challenge that made her so darned appealing. He was a good-looking guy himself, young, in good shape. And if that wasn’t enough, he was as rich as Midas—as long as he remained red-blooded, heterosexual and loyal to his father, that was. Not a bad bargain. His father could buy him anything he wanted in life, and so far, Dad had bought him quite a bit. Things—and people.
It was amazing. Lots of people were for sale.
Like Sukee.
Not that she would ever admit it.
Sukee was something—just no challenge. She left nothing to the imagination. Nothing whatsoever.
But as the rain continued to pour down outside his cottage, Jim was glad of the musky warmth of her body next to his. She was insatiable. And she would do damn near anything.
Anything at all.
With that in mind, he turned toward her. She was slim and sensual, a small package, but a good one. He ran his finger down her back, rounded his hand over her tight buttocks. She moved nicely at his touch.
Sukee stretched and yawned, her back still to him. She turned then, her small hand reaching straight for his aroused sex organ in a no-nonsense fashion.
“Mmm. Not bad,” she murmured.
“I am accustomed to a bit more enthusiasm than that,” he told her.
She rolled on top of him, resting her hands on his chest and her chin on her hands as she stared into his eyes. “That’s because you’re a deviant and you’re hearing whatever you’ve paid some poor whore to say.”
He laughed, unoffended. “And you’re not a well-paid whore?”
She crawled against him, straddling his hips, rubbing her sex against his.
“I’m a whole lot more than that. A whole hell of a lot more.” She leaned against him. Licked his lips. Rose again, staring into his eyes. “And you know it.” She smiled, feeling the growth of his arousal. “Just think, we ought to be out on those Steps today, sniffing around every move made by everyone. Of course, I know where you’d like to be sniffing,” she murmured.
He laced his fingers behind his head, amused. “Cleaner scent than what I’m accustomed to,” he told her.
“Personally, I think you like dirt,” Sukee told him.
“Every boy likes to play in the dirt,” he told her. “But then, you know, come mealtime, he usually likes to clean up.”
“Maybe, maybe not,” Sukee told him. She leaned down again, pressing her lips to his, running her tongue over them. “And maybe that redheaded fantasy of yours is doing just what I’m doing, and more, with O’Connor.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
“With all the same body parts.”
“More or less the same,” he said flatly. “I don’t imagine hers have been quite so widely used.”
Sukee laughed; he thought, though, that he might have struck a nerve.
“That was nasty,” she told him.
“Sorry.”
“It’s all right. I like nasty. I even like your red-haired fantasy. We could make it a threesome.”
He cocked his head. “Actually, I think you like my red-haired fantasy’s gray-eyed macho man.”
“Okay, we can make it a foursome,” Sukee said.
“Over their dead bodies,” Jim said.
Sukee shrugged. “That can probably be arranged,” she said. She arched her back, stretching against him, using him like a post against which to sleekly rub her body. Just like a cat.
“You’re all mouth, Sukee,” he told her.
“That can be arranged, too,” she whispered. She pouted suddenly. “Tomorrow, the Steps. Diving with all the little darlings, searching out their secrets. But today, stud, it’s breakfast in bed.”
“Ooh. Feed me, baby.”
Sukee smiled. And obliged.
At noon the rain was still falling. And they were still lying in bed.
And no matter how damned good—or bad—Sukee was, he still found himself wondering if Samantha Carlyle and the newly arrived Adam O’Connor were shacked up out of the rain, as well.
There were things he needed to know about O’Connor.
Easy enough. He knew the right people to ask to find out just about anything. Anything at all.
Even if he’d finally found a fantasy he couldn’t quite fulfill, Jim determined, it was good being who he was.
He’d almost had her, he told himself. Almost. And besides, like Sukee was so fond of saying…
Things could be arranged.
Sam had been sure that she was never going to sleep. And yet she did. Very deeply.
When she awoke, her room was filled with gray light. She lay in her bed, stretched and thought that the weathermen had been right on the money this time—it was definitely raining.
She rolled over, looked at her watch and saw that it was past noon. Startled, she crawled out of bed and quietly inched her way down the hall, curious to discover what was going on in her house.
Jem was in the living room, engrossed in a magazine. He looked up as she came down the hallway, and Sam
