The Night Mark(58)

“Good God” was all he said when she wrapped her fingers around him. The one word, a prayer, and then he shuddered like he’d been stabbed in the heart. His chin went up and she saw his throat like a tower and his strong Adam’s apple move as he swallowed.

“Please,” Faye said.

“A girl like you should never have to beg,” he said.

“Then don’t make me.”

Carrick’s mouth crashed down onto hers again, the kiss a hundred times hotter and hungrier than before. He slid his hands under her slip, cupped her bottom and pushed her against him so she could feel him against her legs when she sought him with her hand. His mouth massaged her neck and his hot breath warmed every part of her that wasn’t already burning. This was more than the simple warmth of two bodies twined together. She licked a drop of fresh sweat off Carrick’s shoulder, and the sound that came from his throat could have melted iron from the sheer burning heat of it.

“Carrick,” she said, getting used to his name on her tongue. He started to push her underwear down her hips. As soon as they were at her thighs, he cupped her between her legs, seeking her heat as she’d sought his. His fingers slid inside, and she inhaled so hard she forgot to exhale until dizziness made her faint, and she breathed again out of sheer self-preservation.

She closed her eyes and pushed her hips into his hand. Will had this way of touching her with his fingers, of moving his hand inside her that made her lose her mind. No lover before had touched her like that, no lover since; yet here Carrick was, touching her exactly the way Will had, the way that made her wild, the way that made her remember she was a woman and forget she was a widow, and all at once. She cried out as she came in his arms, shuddering until he had to push her into the wall to keep her standing.

“Carrick, I...”

“Quiet,” he said.

“But—”

“Shh...”

She slowly opened her eyes. He’d stopped touching her but she still stood framed between his arms. He looked alert, nervous. She didn’t know why. Then she heard something, something she’d almost forgotten existed in this time and on this lonely island.

A car door shut.

An engine rattled to life.

Wheels and axles turned.

These were all unmistakable sounds.

“Stay here,” Carrick said, his voice almost a whisper. He left her in the barn with the lantern and went out into the dark, unarmed.

“No...” Faye called out, her voice breaking into a sob. Anyone out there shouldn’t be, and they could hurt him, kill him. She grabbed the lantern, raced for the door and found Carrick standing at the edge of the garden mere feet away from the dark oak forest.

“Are you all right?” She threw herself into his arms.

“All right,” he said, patting her back. “Car’s gone. It’ll be halfway to the bridge by now.”

“There’s a road on the island?”

“You would know,” he said. “You were on it.”

Right. Of course. Someone had to have driven her here. It was either that or a boat that had brought her to the island.

“Sorry. I don’t know what I’m saying. I was so scared.”

“I’m not too pleased about it myself.”

“You don’t know who it was?”

“Could be someone from the Maddox family. They own the island. But they always stop by and tell us when they’re coming so we can stay out of their way when they’re hunting.” He narrowed his eyes to peer at the edge of the forest. The trees were so dense Faye couldn’t tell where one began and the other ended. It seemed to be all one tree with a thousand trunks and a billion branches and infinite roots.

“Who else would it be?” Faye asked.

Carrick looked at her, and she saw fear in his eyes.

“Your husband.”





14


Husband? Faye didn’t have a husband. No, Faye didn’t. But Faith did.

“Marshall,” she said.

“Come on,” Carrick said, tugging her gently by the arm. “I’m taking you back to the house and putting you in bed, and I’m going to sit outside your door all night long.”

“What about the lighthouse? Don’t you have to man it or something?”

“I’ll go up when it’s time to turn the clockwork.”

“Carrick. Stop.”

He stopped on the back porch, looked at her by the lantern light.

“You can’t protect me every second of every hour of every day,” Faye said.

“Who says?”

“The car is gone. If it was my...Marshall, do you really think he’d leave without me?”

Carrick took a thoughtful pause. “No. If it was him, he would have tried to kill me so he could take you back. He wouldn’t have driven away. Especially not if he knew what we were doing in there.”

“You know, we didn’t get to finish what we started back there.”

“No, and we’ll call that a blessing,” he said, opening the back door for her. She went inside reluctantly. Carrick followed her to her bedroom and no farther. He stayed on the other side of the threshold, holding the lantern.

“Are you angry at me?” Faye asked when she saw his grim and stone-faced expression.