Читать книгу Forbidden Territory & Forbidden Temptation: Forbidden Territory / Forbidden Temptation - Paula Graves - Страница 17
CHAPTER SEVEN
ОглавлениеLILY THREW HER dead cell phone into the passenger seat, wishing she’d plugged the adapter into the cigarette lighter before she’d left McMillan Place. At least she’d managed to give her location to the operator before her phone went dead.
Gripping the steering wheel, she braced as the car beside her slammed into her again, sending her sliding toward the shoulder. She steered with the skid, managing to right the car before it went over the drop off into the thick woods.
With no streetlamps on the lonely stretch of road, she could make out little about the other car or its driver. It was a dark sedan, an older model judging by its shape, with tinted windows that hid the occupant from view. Not being able to see who was driving her off the road only amplified her terror.
What if her assailant rammed her down the steep embankment into the trees? Would another passing driver be able to see her vehicle from the road? And what would her attacker do if she was trapped and vulnerable at the bottom of the embankment?
She couldn’t help but think of Debra Walters and Abby, alone on a stretch of desolate road, with nothing to protect them from the carjackers but Debra’s willingness to defend her daughter to the death.
Was the person behind those tinted windows the harsh-voiced man from her vision? He knew where she lived; could he have followed her to McMillan Place, waiting to make his move?
Around another curve, her headlights outlined the concrete rails of a bridge spanning a narrow gorge. Lily didn’t have to be psychic to know the other driver would double his efforts to send her off the road once they reached the bridge. And if she went over the side into the creek, she’d never survive the fall.
She sped up as she hit the bridge, praying her tires would grip the slick pavement long enough to get her safely to the other side. Her acceleration caught her tormenter by surprise, forcing him to gun his engine to keep from falling behind.
Lily’s tactic gave her enough of an edge to cross the bridge unmolested, but as she reached solid ground again, the dark sedan bumped against the back panel of her Buick and veered hard to the right. She had no chance to recover as her assailant’s maneuver sent her car spinning across the slippery road.
She held on, trying to keep from sliding over the opposite shoulder, but the momentum was uncontrollable. The world became a blur of dark and light as the Buick hit the shoulder and lurched backward down the fifteen-foot embankment, crashing into a tree with a bone-jarring crunch.
Lily’s head whipped forward and slammed back into the headrest, setting off a brief fireworks display behind her eyes. When the lights and colors faded, she forced herself to shake off the shock and take stock of her condition.
The trunk of the Buick had taken most of the impact of the collision with the tree, leaving the front part of her car in pretty good shape. Her airbag hadn’t deployed, though her seat belt had done its job, holding her in place while her car plunged off the road. She’d be feeling the bruises from the shoulder strap for days, and her headache was back with a vengeance. Beyond that, all her moving parts worked and she hadn’t really lost consciousness.
Shaking wildly, she cut the engine. Her windshield wipers stopped at half-mast, their rhythmic swish-swish abruptly silenced. The void was filled by the heavy drumbeat of rain on the roof and the low moan of wind in the trees behind her, a lonesome sound that amplified her sense of vulnerability tenfold.
She peered through the water sheeting on her wind-shield, trying to see the road. The maneuver that sent her spinning had been a risky move for the other car. Had it met its own fate on the opposite side of the road?
She leaned over and opened the glove compartment, scrabbling through the contents until she found the cell phone adapter. She’d feel safer once she got the 911 operator back on the phone.
But when she finally located her cell phone on the floorboard on the passenger side, its plastic skin lay cracked and askew, wires spilling out through the opening.
Thank God she’d already called for help before the phone went dead. But it would take time for anyone to find her on the long stretch of winding road. And if her attacker hadn’t spun out the way she had—
Light suddenly slanted across her windshield, splintered into glittering facets by the driving rain. She peered through the downpour, her heart in her throat.
Two powerful beams sliced through the gloom at the top of the embankment. They were steady and stationary.
Whoever it was had parked on the shoulder.
Panic zigzagged through her belly. What should she do? Stay put? Try to get out and hide in the woods?
She couldn’t risk the former; she might as well be a rat in a cage, waiting to be fed to a snake. Her shoes weren’t made for trekking through the forest, but she didn’t have to survive out there for long. She just had to hope help arrived before her assailant found her.
Opening her door was harder than she’d expected; the car had sunk into the mud, leaving precious little room to maneuver.
She squeezed through the opening, grabbing her raincoat as she stumbled through the sucking mud. She lost a shoe right off and had to waste time retrieving it, crouching low in hopes that the occupant of the car above hadn’t spotted her yet in the foggy darkness.
She took off the other shoe and squished across the soggy ground until she was well hidden in the trees. Flattening herself against the rough bark of a towering pine, she peeked back up at the roadway.
A dark figure stood at the edge, his large body back-lit by the high beams. He seemed to be gazing down toward her car, his hands curled into fists. Then he began loping down the embankment, taking little care as he slipped and slid on the slick grass.
She could make out only his shadow now, large and looming, so close that she could hear the ragged hiss of his breathing. Terror coiled like a viper in the pit of her belly, spreading poison until her body froze with fear.
When he jerked the driver’s door open, the glow of her dome light rimmed his profile, revealing the familiar set of a square jaw and tension lines carved on either side of his mouth.
Her knees buckling with relief, Lily dug her fingers into the pine bark to keep from sliding to the ground. A soft whimper escaped her throat as a splinter dug into her palm. “McBride.”
He whirled around, peering into the woods. “Lily?”
She willed her legs to hold her upright for the few uneven steps it took to reach the clearing where McBride stood. She couldn’t see his expression, now that the light was at his back again, but she heard his soft exhalation, saw his shoulders sag for a second before he closed the distance between them in two long strides and gathered her into his arms.
She wrapped hers around his neck as he lifted her out of the wet grass and into his tight embrace. His pulse hammered against her breast, keeping pace with her own racing heart.
“Are you hurt?” He started to release her, but she tightened her grip around his neck, shaking her head. He lifted one hand to tangle in her hair, brushing the rain-drenched mass away from her face.
“Are you sure?”
She nodded. “I’m going to be a little sore, I think. But nothing permanent.”
He glanced over his shoulder at her battered car, then back at her. Now that her eyes were adjusting to the darkness, she could see the angry set of his jaw and the glitter of leashed violence in his eyes. “Who did this? Did you get a look at him?”
She tried to gather her wits, though the combination of delayed reaction and McBride’s hard body pressed against hers made coherent thought difficult. “It was a dark four-door sedan with tinted windows. I couldn’t see the driver at all.”
He uttered a terse profanity. “I saw it happening—I was about a quarter mile back when he started ramming you. But I couldn’t catch up in time.”
“That was you?” The lights in her rearview mirror. The ones that had given her hope for a brief moment. She pressed her forehead against his throat, her fingers digging into the muscles of his shoulders as she realized just how easily her fate could have gone the other way.
“Did you see what happened to the other car?”
“All I saw was his taillights ahead. He must have spotted me coming, and gunned it. When I saw the skid marks on the grassy shoulder here, I stopped to see if you were hurt.” He ran his thumb down her cheek, letting it settle at the edge of her lower lip. His voice softened. “You’re trembling.”
She was. And as much as she’d like to attribute it to shock, the main thing sending shivers down her spine was McBride’s body pressed hard and hot against hers.
His gaze dipped to her parted lips, his breath quickening. She could see the struggle on his face, the need to resist. The sharp edges of her own doubts nicked her conscience even as she lifted her chin and met his mouth halfway.
Fire raced through her veins, surprising her with its wild intensity. McBride’s arm tightened around her back, pulling her closer. His other hand tangled in her wet hair, curling into a fist until she was ensnared in his grasp.
He took his time with the kiss, giving and demanding in equal parts, stoking the flames in her belly. His tongue brushed over her lower lip, tasting her. Teasing her.
A low moan of pleasure rumbled up her throat. He tightened his arms around her in response, lifting her off her feet. One hand slid down her back, settling low, pressing her hips firmly against the hard ridge of his erection. Heat flooded her, settling at her center, warming her from the inside out.
He lifted his mouth away only long enough to blaze a trail across her jawline and down the side of her throat, nipping and kissing a path across her collarbone. She melted against him, a shimmering onslaught of need flooding her veins.
At the first faint sound of sirens in the distance, she tightened her hold on his shoulders, not ready to let him go. But he broke the contact, gently setting her back on her feet and taking a step away, breathing hard and fast. His gaze locked with hers, wary and oddly vulnerable, as the sound of sirens grew, piercing the drum-beat of rain.
After an endless moment, he held out his hand. “Think you can make it back to the road if I help you?”
Nodding, she grasped it, wondering if he could feel the tremors still fluttering through her from the kiss.
His big palm enclosed hers. “Need anything from the car?”
“My purse.”
He let go long enough to retrieve the bag, and handed it to her. Then he took her hand again and helped her up the steep incline.
As they reached the road, a police car and an EMT unit were pulling up behind McBride’s idling car. The two medics immediately took charge, separating her from McBride and helping her onto a stretcher in the back of the truck while they looked her over for any possible injuries. She leaned forward to peer around them, not ready to let McBride out of her sight.
He stood a few feet away, bathed in a wide shaft of golden light pouring from the EMT vehicle. He met her gaze with a reassuring smile before moving away to talk to the uniformed officers waiting by his car.
She sank back on the stretcher and closed her eyes, her mouth still tingling from McBride’s kiss.
* * *
MCBRIDE’S WATCH READ four-fifteen when he woke in the predawn gloom of Lily Browning’s living room. Her sofa was built for a woman, sturdy enough but small. Cozy. Definitely not the ideal bed for a man of his size.
The EMTs had reassured him that the purple marks from the seat belt were superficial. Lily had been a little shocky, but a hot shower, dry clothes and extra blankets on her bed had fixed that.
She’d fallen asleep in his car on the way home and had roused only long enough to shower and crawl into bed. When he’d checked on her a little after nine, she’d been fast asleep.
Rubbing the ache in his neck, McBride let his eyes adjust to the pale glow of light from a streetlamp seeping through the thin curtains on Lily’s front windows. He stretched his legs out in front of him, trying to find a more comfortable position.
He shouldn’t have stayed. A police car was parked outside, manned by two perfectly capable officers. Hanging around all night was overkill.
Not to mention dangerous.
He’d kissed her. Not a gentle, comforting peck on the cheek to reassure her that she was safe, either. No, he’d gone for long, wet and greedy.
Worse still, she’d tasted just as he’d expected—sweet with a tangy edge, like wild honey. The curves and planes of her body had fit perfectly against his, soft and hot despite the cold rain drenching them both.
How had he let this happen? Even now he felt the tug of her calling to him, just beyond the closed door at the end of the hall. If he went to her bed, would she turn him away?
He rubbed the heels of his palms against his bleary eyes. He was insane. She was a suspect, for God’s sake! The attack on her tonight didn’t change the fact that she had information only the kidnappers and cops should have. How did she know what Abby had been wearing the day she disappeared?
Maybe she really did see Abby in her mind, a treacherous voice inside him whispered.
No. He knew better than that. He’d learned that lesson the hard way. But could the trembling woman who’d returned his kiss with a sweet passion that made his head spin really be involved with murder and kidnapping?
He sat forward, burying his head in his hands. The idea seemed almost as insane as the alternative.
But those didn’t have to be the only choices, did they?
Maybe the truth lay somewhere in between.
* * *
LILY CURLED UP in bed with her cats, somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. Though sleep had done wonders for her, she felt sore all over from her nerve-wracking ordeal. And below the twinges and aches lay a relentless hum of awareness, a disturbing reminder of how her world had tilted upside down again with one shattering kiss.
Why in the world had she let herself lose control that way? She couldn’t trust McBride; he still thought she was involved in Abby Walters’s kidnapping. Lily had seen it in his eyes the day before in Andrew’s hotel suite. And even if his doubts hadn’t built an impenetrable wall between them, the man himself posed a grave danger to her heart.
The more she learned about the detective, the less she knew. He was a man steeped in secrets. Terrible ones, if the darkness she’d felt from him that night in her kitchen meant anything. What if being around him opened her mind to whatever horrors lurked within him? Could she bear it?
She shivered, cold despite the blankets piled atop her. Delilah nestled closer, a hot little knot against her side, but the shivers grew stronger. The darkness of the bedroom had already begun changing color and texture before Lily realized that she was having another vision.
She opened the door in her mind, both eager and afraid to see what lay beyond. As she pushed forward through the thick fog, she felt a warning pain behind her eyes and forced herself to let the vision flow around her, carrying her at its own pace.
Eventually the mists cleared to reveal Abby Walters lying on the lumpy bed where Lily had found her in her last vision. The child slept fitfully, her pale eyelids twitching with a dream. She looked cleaner than before. Lily took a deep breath through her nose and smelled soap.
Somebody had given Abby a bath, she thought with faint relief. Maybe that meant they were trying to take care of her.
Unless…
A darker thought forced her mind to a horrible place. Abby, naked and vulnerable in the hands of the man—men?—who had brutally killed her mother. Nausea rose in Lily’s throat, making her eyes sting with acrid tears.
“What did they do to you, baby?” She stroked Abby’s cheek, her fingers tracing damp tear tracks.
“It’s okay,” a child’s voice whispered, very close.
Lily whirled around.
The dark-haired girl from her earlier vision stood behind her, clad in yellow-striped pajamas a size too small for her. She clutched a ragged stuffed toy against her chest, something round and tattered, its furry green body worn and thin.
She smiled tentatively at Lily. “I watched her for you.”