Mac's Angels : Sinner and Saint. a Loveswept Classic Romance (9780345541659) (17 page)

Friday the 13th—plus three days—Slade Island

The wind began to die, bringing a strange calm to the area. Karen couldn't decide whether the slowing of the storm made her more or less afraid.

Niko had been gone for hours. Suppose whoever was after her had found him? Not being able to remember had been a personal issue before. Now she'd involved someone else. She was alone on the island with no telephone, no radio, and no boat. And she still wasn't certain whom she was hiding from.

She wandered to the window and glanced out. She could see the path leading down to the dock and the river beyond. The water was still choppy, as it probably always was in winter. The day was gray, but there was no more rain or snow now. This time she could see the distant shoreline and the boat that bobbled toward Slade Island.

He was on his way back.

Or somebody was. She debated about hiding until she could identify the occupant of the boat and then decided that it didn't matter. If it wasn't Niko, whoever was in the boat would make short work of finding her. She had no place to hide. Besides, she was tired of hiding.

Quickly, she pulled on warm clothing and gloves and bounded down the path. At the dock she stood, her face into the wind, waiting for Niko. The man was so involved in docking the boat that she couldn't identify him until he finally looked up.

“Niko.” She ran toward him. “You're safe.”

For a moment they stood, not touching, feeling the wind-driven spray bead their faces. “I'm so glad you're back.” She lifted her face to his.

“I'm—I'm glad too,” he said, refusing for a moment to lean down and give her the kiss she was asking for. Then she heard him groan as he reached out and pulled her close.

She threw her arms around him, holding him tight. His jacket was cold and damp. His hair, wet from the spray, curled around his Gypsy face. Black eyes, churning with emotion, held her gaze.

Karen sighed. Suddenly there was no ice, no wind, no cold. They were two people who had become each other's solace. He held her face between his hands and simply looked at her, every reservation, every joy, clearly spoken with his eyes.

And she loved him more than she'd ever thought possible. Love? Such a simple word, so easily used, so hard to understand. A fantasy was one thing, but no
matter what happened, she knew now that what she felt for Niko far surpassed any dream she'd ever had. He'd forced her to reach out and grab that joy when she'd been determined to turn her back on her own needs. Then he'd risked everything to see that she survived.

Why?

What must it have taken to bring him back to this island? To see her at the very place where his sister had married a stranger.

But Niko had come back to the island, for her.

Why?

During the time they'd been together she'd gone from the depths of despair to the heights of passion. Like the woman in her dream, she'd let herself fall in love with a man whose love she might never have. God, it was so hard. She'd never expected love to be so painful.

There was a burning behind her eyes, a pain that cut through her. “Oh, Niko, thank you for bringing me here, but we should leave. You must go back to your work. And I have to go home to Minnesota and find out why I ran away.”

“Yes,” he said fiercely, “we have to leave here, but you can't go home until we know the truth.”

She tried to turn her face away.

“No. Look at me. I didn't protect my sister, but I won't let anything happen to you. I won't.”

She couldn't look at him without his knowing that she was in love with him. She didn't expect him to feel the same way. Saving her had become, the driving
force in Niko's life. But it was duty, not love. He didn't have to love her to want to make love to her. And she couldn't fool him about her desire. Even she could hear the thrumming of her blood rushing through her veins.

“Let's get inside, out of the cold.” He slid an arm around her waist and half lifted her up the path.

“But, Niko …”

They reached the porch and went inside.

“You don't understand. I know now that it isn't safe for you to be with me,” she said, intent on making him understand the danger. “I remember there was a fire. I saw the arsonist and he knows I saw him.”

Niko took her to the fireplace and let her go while he struggled out of his jacket and his sweater, all the time kissing every part of her face and neck.

“I know. I have a friend who works with a New York newspaper. When I was trying to find out about your background, I called him. He was able to find out what happened. You identified the firebug and he was going to jail.”

“Why didn't you tell me?”

“I was afraid it might have sent you deeper into your flight from reality. I thought it would be better if it came back on its own.”

“I don't know who he is, but he hurts people, Niko. I can't let him hurt you.”

“No. We'll stop him. But he isn't here now. There's only us.”

She looked up at his ferocious face, threading her fingers in his hair. His eyes were heavy-lidded and
angry. “Niko,” she murmured, lost in the pull of the open need she saw.

“I made up my mind not to do this,” he said even as he pushed her jacket from her shoulders and pulled the blue sweater over her head. “There's no room in my life for a personal relationship. I made a promise after my sister died that I'd never let myself get close to someone again. The price I paid for that promise was high.”

“I understand,” Karen murmured. “No more fantasy, Niko. Once we leave the island, we go back to our own lives. But we still have tonight.”

She felt the tightly leashed passion, felt his body tremble with need.
Fantasy or fate, he wants me. And that's enough for now
. “Of all the men in all the world, it had to be you. Love me, Niko,” she whispered, and unfastened her jeans.

He was still the savage who sat on her bed, the sinner who warned her of his reputation, the Gypsy in her dream. But in the time they'd been together he'd become so much more. Once they left Slade Island, like Brigadoon, it would vanish in a puff of smoke. But tonight it was here. And tonight might be all they had.

Seconds later they were both naked, standing before the fire, absorbing the energy that radiated between them. Then Niko held out his hand, waiting, allowing her one last moment to refuse. She placed her hand in his and he drew her down to the mattresses.

She lay beside him, looking up at his strong face silhouetted against the fire.

“You are so handsome,” she murmured. “You take my breath away.”

“I'm the one who should be showering you with compliments, Karen. I've never been in”—the word
love
almost slipped out before he jerked it back, substituting—“bed with a princess.”

“The princess and the Gypsy,” she quipped. “Sounds like a best-selling novel to me.”

He leaned on one elbow, half lifting himself over her. “Oh, it's a novel, all right, a contemporary novel where the man and woman make mad, passionate love even when they know they're making a mistake.”

She winced. “Are we, Niko? Making a mistake?”

“Probably,” he admitted, and took her breast in his hand, lifting it so that he could take her nipple into his mouth. “In fact, I'm pretty damned sure of it.”

“Then we won't finish the novel. That way we'll never know.”

Mindlessly she pressed herself against him, feeling the stubble of his whiskers grazing her face, the hot pool of wetness between her legs. It was a shock when his fingers found the moisture and moved inside her to the source. “Niko,” she called out his name, both as a plea and a question.

With deep drugging kisses he erased her doubts, and then she forgot everything and gave herself to the Gypsy who'd come to her first in a dream.

She was so hot, her body writhing beneath his
now. The pleasure was so intense, it was almost painful. Still, she wanted more. Nothing else in her life had ever brought her to this glorious peak, had taken away her restraint, had sent her dangerously near the edge of the volcano.

His lips moved away from her mouth, branding her as they moved lower, across her chest, then back again to the place where he'd started. She clasped his neck, her nails dug into the area around his spine.

She stiffened. The churning inside her stomach and below threatened to explode, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Dimly she heard his agonized groan and felt him shudder.

And then it happened, as if for the first time. All the words in all the books she'd ever read had been pitiful attempts to describe emotions and feelings that were beyond words. Her bones and flesh had dissolved. She'd become the electricity shimmering in the air. Yet, at the same time she was lying on a mattress before a fire with her lover's hard body collapsed on top of her. They were connected both physically and spiritually. Though there were tears in her eyes, she felt such joy, such a sense of completeness.

For a very long time they didn't move. Then, as if dazed, Niko lifted his head and smiled.

“You don't do that enough,” she said.

“That's true. I can think of nothing more earth-moving than what we just did.” He kissed her cheek, nibbled at the corner of her mouth, then captured it again.

“No,” Karen said as he pulled away. “I meant smile like that. You rarely ever smile.”

“That too,” he agreed, recklessly disregarding every rule of conduct he'd made on his way back to the island. “Henceforth and forevermore, when you see me smile like that, you'll know what I'm thinking. I'll never smile again unless I'm loving you. I'll buy this island and change its name. This is now officially Sandor Island. I'll lock you in the tower room and keep you my prisoner forever.”

Caught up in the spirit, Karen laughed and pulled his lips back to hers. “I don't think that's necessary, Niko. I like it here just fine. You're making it very hard for me to leave.”

If it were possible, his smile grew even more wicked, and that part of him which joined them together was a very firm confirmation of her words.

“Exactly what I had in mind,” he said.

It was much later when Karen awakened and found herself wrapped in Niko's arms. Where would they go from here? Did they even have a future? She felt as if her life had begun when she opened her eyes and saw Nikolai Sandor. But it hadn't. There'd been another whole existence before, back in a place called Silver Lake, Minnesota.

And no matter how much she wanted the man holding her, or how much he might want her, she couldn't give herself completely until she knew what she'd left behind.

She watched as the flames burned the logs and turned into orange coals. Suddenly she could see the
wisps of red-orange reach out the window and lick at the trellis along the side of a house. The dead clematis vines burst into flames and raced up the wall, snapping and crackling like the sound of a witch's cauldron on Halloween.

Not only did she remember, but she was there. It was no longer just a fire. It was Halloween, the night of spirits and goblins. She always helped operate the town's annual “haunted house.” The candles, the smell of dust and candy, had given her a headache. Finally, as the last of the crowds had entered the house, she'd stepped outside to catch a breath of fresh air beneath a tree in the far corner of the yard.

She saw the figure creep around the corner of the house and push up the window. Seconds later she watched dumbfounded as he lit a match, touched it to a piece of material, and tossed it inside. That's when it happened. The fire started with a flare of light in the window, then caught the black gauze closing out the light.

She was paralyzed for a moment, watching the man as he moved back toward the spot where she stood. He deliberately set the house on fire with people inside.

It all came rushing back, the smoke, the screams, the man who turned to flee. He was wearing a ghostly mask.

“You—you set the house on fire!”

“Aren't you going to save them?” the specter said, then laughed and ran away.

“Help. Fire!” Karen screamed, catching the attention of a father leaving the house with two little boys.

“Take my children to safety.” The father thrust the toddlers' hands into Karen's. “And call 911.”

“What is it?” Somewhere outside of her vision Karen heard Niko's voice, but now that the final black hole of horror had been penetrated, she couldn't hold back the flood of memories.

With the children crying in fear, she'd run to her car phone and placed the emergency call. As the phone rang she watched a red car pull out and drive rapidly away, tires squealing. In the streetlight she caught the first two numbers of the license plate, but the remainder were covered with a slash of mud.

“What are you seeing?” Niko demanded, turning her to face him.

“The fire department and the police were there. People were burned. Nobody died, but he got away.”

“Who got away?”

“The arsonist. He set the house on fire. I was there. Oh, Niko, I remember!”

“Good. Then you remember that they arrested him,” Niko said calmly, leading her further into what she'd blanked out.

“They did?”

“Yes, you gave them the tag number to his car.”

She'd thought she knew it all, but that last elusive memory remained beyond her recall. The last thing she saw was the fire and the burned-out house. “No.”

“They took him in for questioning and your testimony would have convicted him.”

“No. There's more, there has to be. Otherwise, why would I have come to New York?” She was almost angry as she asked, “Why would someone have followed me?”

“We don't know yet. Mac is checking with the librarian and the hospital staff.”

She raised her eyebrows, studying him carefully. “Mac? Is he your friend with the newspaper?”