The Other Lady Vanishes (Burning Cove #2)(67)

“That antidote may be your one ace in the hole if someone succeeds in grabbing you,” Jake said.

“What do you mean?”

“It gives you something to trade.”

“For what?”

“Your life.”

She made a face. “Thanks for the cheery thought. But even if that strategy worked, I’d end up back at the Rushbrook Sanitarium. I’d rather be dead.”

“Don’t talk like that. We’re going to get through this.”

“All right, but promise me one thing.”

“What?”

“If I end up back at Rushbrook, promise me that you’ll find a way to get me out.”

Jake gripped her shoulders and turned her around to face him.

“Last night on the beach I told you that I would kill anyone who tried to hurt you,” he said.

“Yes, I know. And it was very sweet of you.” A wistful sensation whispered through her. She smiled a little. “But you were hallucinating.”

“I remember every word and I meant every word. If you end up back at the asylum, I will come and get you and I will destroy anyone who stands in my way.”

She believed him. She could not explain why, but she did. There was a sharp, fierce edge to his words that told her he would keep the promise or die trying.

“Jake,” she said. “You cannot know how much that means to me.”

“Maybe not, but I do know how much you mean to me. The world.”

His mouth came down on hers in a kiss that sealed the vow.





Chapter 38


For a heartbeat she did not—could not—respond. There was heat and power and promise in his embrace but there was also risk. She was very sure now that she could trust him to try to protect her, but there was nothing he could do to shield her heart. She was falling in love with him. That was her fault, not his.

Nevertheless, there was an unshakable bond between them, a bond forged by the forces that threatened them both. They needed each other if they were to have any chance of surviving the nightmare that had enveloped them.

That bond was enough, at least for tonight. She craved the raw thrill of abandoning herself to the desire that flared between them. She was desperate for a sensation strong enough to free her from the past, even if the escape was only temporary.

With a soft, muffled cry, she wrapped her arms around Jake’s neck and gave herself up to the embrace.

“Adelaide.”

He said her name in a hoarse, urgent growl infused with hunger and a need that resonated with something deep inside her.

His hands moved from her shoulders to the buttons of her blouse. He did not release her mouth as he got the garment open. The kiss bound them together as securely as any lock and chain.

She fumbled to tug the hem of his undershirt out of the waistband of his trousers. She had no practical experience in the business. Before Conrad she had enjoyed a few light flirtations with young men who were as shy and uncertain as herself. None of the relationships had progressed beyond stolen kisses and some illicit fondling in the shadows of a porch swing or the front seat of a car.

She had hoped to discover passion with Conrad but he had not encouraged her. His kisses had been nothing if not restrained. At the start of their relationship she had assumed it was because he was determined to be a gentleman. Toward the end she had concluded that she was one of those unfortunate women the doctors labeled frigid. She had been wrong on both counts.

She might be inexperienced but she applied herself to the task of pulling Jake’s undershirt free of his trousers with diligence and determination. The result was that by the time he got the zipper of her trousers down, she was threading her fingers through the crisp, curling hair of his chest. The feel of firm, masculine muscle beneath warm skin was beyond exciting. It was intoxicating.

He finally set her mouth free, albeit with obvious reluctance. He peeled off her blouse and tossed it down on the cot. Her rayon-and-silk knit bra was next. When his palms closed gently over her breasts, she heard him draw in a sharp breath.

“You are so beautiful,” he said.

She wasn’t beautiful, not in the way of a star like Vera Westlake, she thought. But, damn, it was exactly the sort of thing a woman needed to hear at a time like this.

He got her loose, flowing trousers open and pushed them down over her hips. They tumbled into a pool on the floor. She kicked the fabric aside, wanting to get it out of the way so that she could get closer to him.

When she was left in only her panties, he picked her up and set her down gently on his cot. He straightened just long enough to get rid of his own trousers and undershirt. In the low light of the fire she could see that he wore the latest in men’s undershorts, a pair of close-fitting briefs. She had seen the ads for them in the newspapers but she had never viewed them in person on a man. As she watched, fascinated, he stepped out of them.

Her mouth went dry. She was the daughter of two scientists and she was a professional librarian. She knew far more about biology than most sexually inexperienced women. Nevertheless, this was the first time she had ever seen a naked, heavily aroused man.

She managed to conceal her shock, but not without considerable effort. She was grateful for the deep shadows in the small cabin.

Instead of coming directly to the cot, Jake picked up his jacket, reached into an inside pocket, and took out a small tin.