Tightrope (Burning Cove #3)(67)
“Matthias.”
It was all she could say.
He cupped her and whispered something dark and sensual when he discovered how wet she was. Everything deep inside her was now so tightly wound that she wanted to scream with frustration but she could barely catch her breath.
She seized the hard, rigid length of him.
“Yes,” he pleaded, his voice a harsh rasp. “Yes.”
She tightened her fingers around him and began to move her hand in a pumping action that left him damp with sweat. She thrilled to the knowledge that he was controlling himself because he wanted to please her. She stroked him with still more force.
He sucked in his breath, settled onto his back, and hauled her astride his thighs. She lowered herself carefully onto his thick length.
He thrust upward, filling her completely. The size and urgency of his erection was too much. She came undone in a shivering, shuddering release that seemed endless.
He followed her into the deep. His climax stormed through her, igniting aftershocks.
They fell into each other.
And they caught each other.
Chapter 45
The following morning Amalie found herself in what had become a surprisingly pleasant routine. She was in the kitchen helping Willa with breakfast preparations. Matthias and Jasper were at the large wooden table in the center of the room, drinking coffee and talking about the intricacies of car engines.
They all stopped when Hazel burst into the room waving the new edition of the Burning Cove Herald.
“You’re not going to believe this,” Hazel said. “The robot escaped.”
Willa stared at her. “What in the world?”
Jasper frowned. “Are you talking about Pickwell’s robot?”
“Do you know any other robots?” Hazel asked.
She held up the front page so that they could all read the headline.
ROBOT DISAPPEARS.
AUTHORITIES MYSTIFIED.
PUBLIC WARNED TO BE ON THE LOOKOUT.
“There must be some mistake,” Amalie said.
“It’s just more sensational nonsense,” Jasper said. “The press can’t let go of the robot-murders-its-creator story.”
“I don’t think so,” Hazel said. “The piece is under Irene Ward’s byline. She’s the crime beat reporter for the Herald.”
“Read the report,” Willa urged.
Hazel obliged and read the piece aloud.
The Burning Cove police are investigating the strange disappearance of Futuro, the robot that recently murdered Dr. Norman Pickwell onstage at the Palace Theater. The mechanical man vanished sometime in the early hours of this morning. The loss was reported by Mr. Chester Ward.
Detective Brandon of the police department told this reporter that he believes the robot was stolen. Others, however, question the circumstances of the so-called theft and suggest that the creature may have escaped.
“That metal monster could be anywhere,” Willa said. “It has already committed murder once. What’s to stop it from killing again? Now that it’s had a taste of human blood, it may crave more.”
“Futuro is not a vampire,” Matthias said. “And I doubt the thing simply walked away from Chester Ward’s workshop. It’s a lot more likely that it was stolen.”
“Who would steal a robot?” Amalie asked.
“Good question,” Jasper said. “Maybe someone thinks he can hold it for ransom. The authorities might offer an award for information leading to the recovery of a dangerous killer robot.”
Matthias gave him an approving look. “That’s not a bad theory.”
“Just seems logical,” Jasper said, sounding a little embarrassed by the praise.
“If you ask me, Futuro chose a very unfortunate time to vanish,” Amalie said. “I was hoping to see reports of the Psychic Curse Mansion tours back on the front page today. Now that missing robot is going to grab all the attention.”
Vincent Hyde loomed in the doorway. “Don’t be too sure of that, Miss Vaughn. Something tells me that the story will go national by this afternoon. I’m sure your charming little inn will once again be featured in a starring role. The line for the tours will be out the door and halfway down the drive. Everyone will want to see the room that was booked by the doomed inventor.”
Amalie cheered up a little at that. “I hope you’re right.”
Hazel’s eyes narrowed. “Mr. Hyde is right, we can use this story. Willa, after breakfast, you and I will figure out how to work Futuro’s escape into our tour script.”
Chapter 46
“It’s been almost twenty-four hours now,” Raina said. “Do you think the plan will work?”
They were in Luther’s office at the Paradise. The room was paneled in dark wood. Several of Luther’s dark paintings hung on the wall.
He did not respond immediately. Instead, he got up from behind his desk. She watched him cross the room to stand in front of the French doors that opened onto the shaded balcony. They had been acquainted for only a short time but she could read the edgy tension in the set of his broad shoulders as easily as if they had been intimate for years.
“What I think,” Luther said, “is that it’s our only chance to grab Smith. If the plan fails, odds are very, very good that he’ll disappear again, maybe permanently this time.”