Lost and Found (15 page)

Read Lost and Found Online

Authors: Dallas Schulze

The thought was enough to dispel the feeling. She sat up, breathing in cool air, banishing the sleepy contentment that was threatening to overtake her common sense. She had to remember exactly what the situation was. Cherishing had nothing to do with it. In simplest terms, Sam was making an investment. His time and care of her in return for the fifty thousand dollars he expected to get at the end of this whole mess.

Sam came and leaned in the doorway, looking disgustingly healthy and male. Babs pulled the throat of his shirt closed, wishing she was wearing something a little more suited to taking charge of her life. It was difficult to be forceful when you felt weak as a kitten and were wearing nothing but a man's shirt.

"Have you had any luck contacting Uncle Emmet?"

"With what? Smoke signals? There's no phone in this place." Sam stretched, looking so imperturbable that she wanted to smack him.

"Couldn't you walk to a phone?"

He looked at her and then looked out the window. "I don't think so. I don't even know where the nearest phone is and I'd be soaked by the time I was ten feet out the door. Besides, I don't want to leave you alone."

"I'm fine."

"Sure you are but I'm still not leaving you alone."

There was no arguing with that tone and Babs didn't even bother trying. She'd have died before admitting it but she wasn't all that keen on being left alone. She yawned, reluctant to acknowledge that she was still tired.

"Why don't you get some more sleep? I'll wake you in time for lunch." The idea had too much appeal for her to argue with it. She slid down under the covers.

The next time she opened her eyes, she was aware of two things at once. The rain had eased to a mere drizzle and she was hungry again. She sat up in bed, stretching her arms over her head and arching her back.

She didn't feel like running a footrace but she felt much stronger than she had a few short hours ago.

"Ready for lunch?"

She jerked her arms down, aware of the way that her breasts pressed against the soft flannel of his shirt. The same awareness was in Sam's eyes but he didn't say anything.

"Must you sneak up on me all the time?" She was immediately ashamed of the petulant note in her voice but it was too late to take it back.

Sam stared at her, one black brow arching. Babs felt her cheeks heat under that mute comment. She sounded like a spoiled brat and she knew it.

"I could try wearing spurs so you could hear me coming. Or maybe a collar with a bell on it?" The image of Sam wearing a collar wjth a bell on it drew out an involuntary smile from her.

"I shouldn't have snapped. You just startled me."

"Sorry. I'll try to make sure you hear me coming but it's a little hard to stomp in sneakers. How about if I sing an aria from Don Giovanni as I approach the door?"

"Is your voice any good?"

"Well, it depends on how you define good. Pavarotti trembles when I sing but he also clutches at his ears, so maybe it's not fear of my talent. Ready for lunch?"

"Starved."

Lunch was more hash and a can of peas. It was hardly what Babs was accustomed to but she'd learned that hunger had a marvelous way of making everything taste good. She finished her plate. Sam cleared away the tray and Babs was left with nothing to do but stare at the walls. It didn't take long for that to get old.

Then she tried sleeping but she wasn't tired enough for that.

"How about a game of rummy?" Babs looked up, ready for any diversion. Sam was standing in the doorway, holding up a pack of cards that looked as if they'd spent their life on the floor of a mechanic's shop.

"Cards?"

"Unless you've got a better suggestion. It's something to pass the time."

She hesitated for only a moment. Her common sense told her that the less time she spent with Sam Delanian, the better. Boredom won out. If she lay here staring at the walls and listening to the rain for another hour, she was going to go stark raving mad.

Sam apparently took her silence for agreement. He crossed the room and settled himself at the foot of the bed. The mattress dipped under his weight.

"We're going to have to be a little flexible."

"Why?"

"Well, this deck doesn't have a ten of clubs or an ace of diamonds."

"That's okay." If he'd told her that they were missing an entire suit she wouldn't have cared. It was still something to do.

They played two hands without speaking beyond what was necessary for the game. Sam won the first hand and Babs took the second. Their playing styles were vastly different. Babs studied the cards carefully, weighing the odds and making her decisions accordingly. Sam didn't seem to pay much attention to what he was doing, relying on luck and intuition.

"Tell me about your family."

Babs jumped, startled out of her concentration on the game. Her eyes shifted from the cards in her hand to

Sam's face but he wasn't looking at her. He was rearranging his own hand.

"What about them?" She didn't want to think about her family now. She didn't want to think about anything beyond this hand of cards.

"What are they like?"

"Rich. Spoiled. Naive."

"That sums them up pretty neatly but it doesn't tell me much."

"Maybe I don't feel like talking about them."

"I think we should talk about them."

She tossed her cards down and glared at him. "Do you know how annoying it is to have you constantly telling me what I should and shouldn't do? No one died and made you God so just leave me alone."

Sam's own temper flared to meet hers. "Someone has to point out reality to you once in a while. And reality is that someone wants you dead. Before I take you home, I thought it might be nice to know who that someone is."

"I can't believe that any of my family would want me killed. We don't get along but they wouldn't go that far. It's a mistake of some kind."

"Well, it's a mistake that damn near got us both killed and I don't like mistakes like that."

"Well, nobody asked you to rescue me."

"If I hadn't rescued you, they'd probably be finding your body somewhere right now. I've gone to a lot of trouble keeping you alive so far and I don't want it to go for nothing. You may be a spoiled brat but I'd rather not see you dead."

"Don't call me a brat."

"Then don't act like one."

"Well, at least I don't act like a chauvinistic misogynist with an ego the size of Cleveland."

Sam leaned forward until their faces were inches apart, meeting her glare for glare. The cards lay forgotten between them. The rain had faded to a vague background noise.

"If that's the way you feel about me, would you like to tell me why in the hell you slept with me?" He bit the question out, his voice fiercely soft.

Babs blinked, feeling her chest tighten. The argument had suddenly become dangerous. She looked away, searching frantically for some safe answer. Her shoulders lifted in a casual shrug.

"It was no big deal."

Sam's irritation climbed to new heights. He wanted to grab her and shake her until her teeth rattled. She was infuriatingly stubborn. She sat there, looking as fragile as a child and then he came up against a stubborn streak a mile wide.

"No big deal?"

She shrugged again, her eyes meeting his and then sliding away. "That's right. I mean, we just slept together. There's no big deal in that."

"Most women consider it a moderately big deal when they lose their virginity."

He heard the catch in her breathing and her eyes swept up to meet his. For just a moment, all the barriers were down and he could see the vulnerability she tried so hard to conceal.

"How did you know?"

"Babs, it wasn't something I was likely to overlook."

"Was I that bad?"

"No. Of course not." He reached out to touch her cheek, his fingers gentle. "It was wonderful. You were wonderful. But I don't understand why you did it if you dislike me so much."

"I didn't say I disliked you." She looked away and he could see her drawing her defenses around her like a cloak, shutting herself safely inside and closing him out.

"Well, you sure don't act like you're all that happy about it. So why did you sleep with me?"

She shrugged again, her eyes looking past his shoulder. "I was bored with being a virgin. It seemed like a good time and you were... handy."

"Handy." Sam repeated the word, keeping his tone carefully neutral. "Handy."

"That's right." Still, she didn't look at him.

Sam studied her face, wondering if she had any idea how soft the curve of her cheek was or the way her mouth quivered when she was nervous. Handy. It was so patently ridiculous he couldn't even be angry about it. He nodded as if the idea made perfect sense to him.

"I can understand your impatience overcoming you as we rode along wondering if someone was trying to kill us. I suppose you'd always planned on losing your virginity in the back of a moving van?"

"Of course not." She flushed, her eyes meeting his and then skittering away.

"Then why, Babs? Why did you make love with me?"

"I told you. I—" He gestured sharply, cutting her words off.

"Don't give me that. I don't want to hear that you were bored with being a virgin. If you made it to the ripe old age of twenty-four without giving in to boredom, then it's not too likely that you were suddenly overcome with lust in the back of a moving van."

"I don't know why you're making such an issue out of this. It's really not worth—" Sam caught her chin in his hand, forcing her eyes to meet his.

Babs couldn't look away from the bright blue of his gaze. It demanded so many things she wasn't sure she could give but it refused to let her lie.

"Why, Babs? I want to know. Why me?"

"You make me feel.. .safe." Her voice was little more than a husky whisper, shaken and half-scared.

Sam's fingers gentled on her face, his other hand coming up to cup her cheek so that he held her trapped. But Babs didn't feel trapped. She felt cherished, protected, cared for.

"You are safe, sweetheart. You are safe." His quiet promise shivered through her, soothing and frightening her at the same time. Frightening because she wanted so badly to believe what he was saying. She needed to believe it.

"Sam, I—"

His thumb pressed against her lips and Babs forgot what she'd planned to say.

"Hush. No more talking. We always get in trouble that way." His smile flickered and then faded as he leaned toward her. Babs forgot how to breathe but it didn't seem important. Nothing was important beyond the bright blue of his eyes.

His mouth touched hers and her lashes fell. Babs thought of keeping him at a safe distance but her fingertips felt the hard muscles beneath his shirt and the idea was gone. He felt so warm and vital.

His mouth tasted hers as if sipping at a cup of heady wine before taking a full drink. She felt her bones start to melt beneath the gentle nibbling of his teeth, coaxing her mouth to open for him. Her breath left her on a sigh of surrender. Her hands slid up his shoulders, her fingers burrowing into the thick black hair at his nape. Sam deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring the sweet softness she'd opened to him.

The cards were forgotten as he leaned forward, pressing her back into the pillows, supporting his weight on his hands. Babs fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, her palms pressing into the crisp hair and taut muscles. Sam's teeth nipped at the sensitive skin behind her ear, his tongue coming out to soothe the sensuous pain.

Outside the rain continued to fall, the heavy clouds smothering the light, leaving the landscape gray and gloomy. But the old farmhouse was snug and warm. Sam explored the soft curve of waist and thigh. Babs rediscovered the hard muscles of his shoulders.

Her skin felt flushed and feverish but it had nothing to do with illness. She was melting in the heat of his touch, in the feel of his mouth. Nothing in the world seemed half so real as the feel of his hands on her body, his mouth on her breast.

Their coupling was completed in one smooth thrust and she arched beneath him, her breath leaving her on a moan of pure pleasure. The passion burned too high to last long. The climax was swift, devastating in its power, leaving them both trembling in the aftermath.

Sam rolled over to the side, taking her with him, holding her close. She'd never felt so comforted, so protected in her life. The thought frightened her even as she pressed closer to him. What was she going to do when he was no longer a part of her life?

Chapter 11

B
abs didn't have to deal with his leaving yet. For the moment, no one was going anywhere. She spent the rest of the afternoon cuddled in Sam's arms. The rain continued to fall outside but it didn't seem important. They had everything they needed right here.

Darkness came early, the cloud cover hastening the fading light. Babs woke from a light doze as Sam slid his arm out from under her and slipped out of bed.

"Where are you going?" The words came out on a yawn.

The bed dipped as Sam leaned down to drop a kiss on the end of her nose. "Stay here. I'm going to build a fire and light a lamp."

Babs snuggled deeper under the layers of covers, watching sleepily as he dressed. In the near dark he was little more than a darker shadow among shadows. The fading light angled off his muscled shoulders and corded thighs. She felt a pleasantly possessive twinge. He was all hers. In this time and this place, she could lay claim to this man. The thought was surprisingly attractive.

"Stay under the covers until I get the fire going." Sam strode out of the room, still shrugging into his shirt.

At another time Babs might have taken exception to him telling her what to do. She always made her own decisions. She rolled over, burying her face in the pillow and inhaling. It smelled like Sam—soap and man. For now she'd indulge this heretofore undiscovered urge to be bossed and let Sam take charge.

She lay there, letting her thoughts drift with pleasant aimlessness until Sam came back in, carrying one of the oil lamps.

"I've got the fire going. If you'd like, you can come in and sit by the fire. You're probably sick of that bed."

"Oh, I don't know. It has its advantages." Her husky voice was pure invitation. Sam looked surprised, then intrigued and then regretful.

"Don't tempt me."

"Why not? You're so temptable."

"You're supposed to be resting." He set the lamp on the night table and then leaned down to scoop her up, covers and all. Babs gave a startled gasp. Her arms were tangled up in the blankets so that she lay helpless in his arms. The feeling was new and not entirely welcome. She lay completely still, her body stiff.

"Relax. I'm not going to drop you." She looked up, meeting Sam's eyes, seeing understanding there. Too much understanding. It made her uneasy that he seemed to be able to read her mind. But there was also reassurance. His arms tightened around her in an admonitory squeeze. "I managed to get you here without dropping you, didn't I?"

Was that disappointment she read in his face? Did he think that she didn't trust him? How could she explain that it wasn't him she didn't trust? She made a conscious effort to relax and was rewarded with his smile.

"See, it's not so bad." He turned and carried her into the living room. By the time he set her down on the battered sofa, Babs had to admit that she felt as safe in his arms as she had in her entire life.

A fire crackled in the fireplace, warming the dusty room. Sam disappeared into the bedroom and brought back the lamp he'd left there. Between the fire and the two lamps, the room was bright with soft light. Babs looked around with interest. Since she'd been unconscious when Sam carried her into the house, this was the first look at their hideaway she'd gotten.

There wasn't much to see. A big room that functioned as living room, dining room and kitchen. A few pieces of slightly rickety furniture. Hardwood floors and plank walls, the windows covered with tattered curtains. Not a prepossessing abode but Babs had no complaints. Sam was stirring around in the kitchen, whistling softly between his teeth, the fire cast warmth and light over the room, the door was shut tight against the rain and wind outside. She couldn't remember when she'd felt more content with life.

"This stuff is probably as old as the hills but it's hot." She reached up to take the mug Sam handed her, cradling her hands around its warmth.

"What is it?"

"Tea. I think. It looked a little dusty but it smells like tea and the box claims it's tea. Anyway, whatever it is, it'll warm you up. Hungry?"

"Starving." She sipped at the steaming liquid. It was tea all right or it had been tea in a previous incarnation. It still held some vague resemblance to that beverage, though it also tasted a little like liquid dust. But Sam was right, it was hot and that was reason enough to drink it. She took another sip.

"What are we having for dinner?"

Sam shut a cupboard door and glanced over his shoulder. "Well, I'd like to tell you that filet mignon is on the menu but I'm afraid we're all out of it. How about Spam filets with some sauteed canned potatoes and a side dish of canned peas? And for dessert, we have canned peaches."

Babs wrinkled her nose. "Sounds like a lot of cans."

"Yeah, but it's food. When we get back to civilization, I'm going to have a steak the size of Rhode Island."

Babs couldn't imagine enjoying a steak any more than she did the meal Sam set in front of her a little while later. It was hot and filling. She'd barely been out of bed in the last twenty-four hours but her appetite had never been better. She ate every scrap of it with real pleasure.

Sam stacked the chipped plates in the sink afterward and then came and sat on the sofa beside her. It seemed the most natural thing in the world for him to slip his arm behind her and pull her over to lean against him. Her head fit naturally into the hollow of his shoulder. They sat there for a long time without speaking, watching the firelight and listening to the rain outside.

"Think it will stop raining by tomorrow?" Babs asked.

"I don't know." Sam nuzzled her hair, sounding as if he didn't care if it never stopped raining.

"It's not going to be a lot of fun to walk out of here if it's still raining."

"We're not going anywhere until I'm sure you're rested. And we're not going anywhere until the rain stops."

"I'm fine." She tried to ignore the gentle nip of his teeth on her earlobe. "I don't know why I collapsed like that."

"Exhaustion. And I'm going to make sure it doesn't happen again." His mouth found the pulse that beat at the base of her throat and Babs's head fell back against his arm.

"I'm fine. Really I am." Her voice was breathy, caught somewhere in her throat as he nibbled his way along her collarbone, pushing aside his shirt as he went.

"Let me be the judge of that." Her head spun dizzily, her hands coming up to clutch at his shoulders as he lifted her, laying her on the floor in front of the fireplace, the blankets jumbled beneath her.

Babs stared up into his eyes, losing herself in the bright blue of them. His fingers worked the buttons on the shirt he'd given her, but his eyes never left hers, holding her hypnotized.

"I've always wanted to play doctor with a woman with skin like satin and chocolate-colored eyes." His voice was low, in keeping with the spell he was weaving. The shirt fell open and he laid his hand against her stomach. His thumb rested on the pulse that jumped beneath the skin just above the soft triangle of hair that guarded her most feminine secrets.

"Are we playing doctor?" Babs had to clear her throat to get the words out.

"I'm not playing. I've never been more serious in my life."

His head dipped, his mouth capturing hers, chasing away any possibility of thought. Babs surrendered to the magic he was creating, her arms coming up to circle his neck.

Beside them the fire crackled and popped, but its heat was no greater than the sexual heat they created together. The fire created an orange glow beneath her closed eyelids, adding to the heat. Babs's skin burned everywhere that Sam touched. Her fingers traced the muscles of his back, lighting new fires.

In all the world, there were only the two of them. Nothing else, no one else mattered. Only the here and now and the feel of his strong body above hers.

Other books

The Bitch by Lacey Kane
The Mother Tongue by Bill Bryson
Her Homecoming Cowboy by Debra Clopton
Marital Bitch by J.C. Emery
Kiss by Mansell, Jill
Rickles' Book by Don Rickles and David Ritz
After Innocence by Brenda Joyce
Magnolia Square by Margaret Pemberton
The Cowboy's Baby by Linda Ford