Stranger on the Shore (25 page)

The three-note birdcall reverberated across the clearing, a triumphant warble immediately answered by a similar call. The two calls came again—this time closer together.

"Yes," Jordan said, his voice a husky whisper. "He heard her. He's going to her. All she had to do was answer."

Sarah turned to him.

Jordan hesitated. "Sarah?"

Listen to your own self.
Sarah blinked, remembering Aunt Cinda's advice. She held herself upright, wanting nothing more than to burrow into the strength and comfort offered by the man in front of her. He had come as a stranger, mistrusted and misunderstood only because he was alien. He demanded nothing, asked little—only the opportunity to learn, to understand and to become part of the peace he'd found here. He knew this place now. He also knew her, knew her secrets, knew her fears. He'd become a part of her—a part she could no longer deny. But for some reason, he no longer seemed to want her.

She saw Jordan draw a quick breath, but he remained still. The whippoorwill called again and was answered so quickly that she could envision the two birds, perched side by side, offering their three-note duets to the sky. Without thinking, she pursued her lips and softly imitated the three notes.

For a split second Jordan hesitated. Regardless of whether Sarah would admit it or not, she wanted him. She had called to him. He wanted to respond.

He knew she could read the answer to her invitation in his eyes. For a long moment, he battled against himself. This wasn't the right time. He should protect her—from him, from herself, from the unknown forces that threatened her. But she'd breached all his defenses, destroyed his reason, and overwhelmed his senses. With a low moan of surrender, he pulled her into his arms.

His mouth touched hers lightly, his lips sliding across her cheek, savoring the honey of her skin. The pulse point on the side of the neck fluttered under his touch, its rhythm erratic, an echo of the clamoring need coursing through his body. His hands moved across her back, molding her soft body to the hard, muscular length of his. He wanted her with an intensity that shook him. He touched the tip of his tongue to hers, tasted her sweetness as she returned the caress, felt her shiver under his touch.

"Jordan, I feel...."

He recognized her helplessness, her surrender, in the melting of her body. "I'm here, Sarah. I'm here. You can lean on me." He kissed her again, an urgent, touching of lips tempered only by the careful control he exerted over himself.

He cuddled her against his chest and looked down into her eyes. Her lips curved, and her eyes shimmered with a silvery blue-green light. Her arms crept around his neck. The solid feel of her was an affirmation that she was real. She spoke again, her voice a tiny lilt reverberating with the wonder of discovery. "Jordan, let's go inside."

Her words were an echo of his thoughts. Jordan nodded, one arm tightening around her, afraid that if he relinquished his grasp she'd disappear, and led the way inside.

He touched her face, his fingers tracing the curve of her cheek, the contour of her jaw, the shape and promise of her lips. Then his hands moved to the tie at her waist, opening the robe to reveal the short lace-trimmed gown. Slowly he pushed the robe off her shoulders and down her arms, letting it fall to the floor, and took a step back so that he could see her.

"So beautiful," he whispered, his eyes holding hers as he efficiently discarded his shirt and jeans and stood before her clad only in his white briefs.

Sarah dragged her gaze from his, her eyes sweeping from his broad shoulders across his chest, following the silken line of dark hair across his flat stomach to where it swirled around his navel, then downward. Her head jerked up, her eyes wide.

Jordan's gentle laugh rumbled low in his chest as he reached for her. "And that doesn't even begin to say how much I want you," he said, his lips soft against her cheek."

Carefully he eased her onto the softness of the bed. "I've been searching for you all my life." He breathed the words into her ear as her lips nibbled at the sensitive lobe. "And I didn't even know it."

Sarah's arms went around him as he lowered his mouth to hers, tenderly claiming her lips and her heart. With low, musical endearments, he slid the narrow straps of her gown off her shoulders and down her arms, caressing her body through the silken material. Her fingers traced the lace border draped low across her small breasts, their dusty-rose centers peeking seductively through the open mesh trim. Her nipples grew instantly taut and firm under his touch.

Sarah raised her mouth to his, her tongue probing delicately between his lips, at first teasing the sensitive skin inside, then burrowing deeper and deeper in a hungry kiss of escalating arousal.

Jordan moaned, the sound escaping from low in his throat. "Oh, Sarah, what am I going to do with you?"

"Love me. Please, just love me," she whispered. She shifted, lifting her body as his hands skimmed the gown. She pushed her bikini panties over her hips.

Her hands followed the contours of his chest down to the elastic waistband of his briefs and tugged, no longer able to tolerate even that barrier between them.

Jordan groaned again, then rolled to his side and fumbled for the foil packet in the nightstand drawer. He took the necessary moment to take care of precautions, and then rolled back toward Sarah. A low sound escaped unbidden as his lips reclaimed hers. He wanted this to last forever. He lowered the weight of his body onto hers to slow the impatient need threatening to consume them both.

She clung to him, feeling his uneven breath on her cheek, her skin tingling, her body still craving his hands. Her fingers moved hungrily over his heated skin, relishing the tactile feel of heat and fire and texture under her fingertips. She moved under him, uttering soft, muted cries of need and passion. Jordan held her tightly, rocking with her, her anchor in the riptide.

He brushed a gentle kiss across her forehead. Then his lips seared a path down her neck, past her shoulders, into the valley between her breasts. He could hear the frantic beating of her heart beneath his ear, recognized it as an echo of the urgency coursing through his veins. His lips continued exploring her soft flesh, outlining the tips of her breasts with his tongue. As he claimed one of her nipples, she arched under him, her cry of need shattering the last of his control.

He lifted himself above her. She rose to meet him. Calling on the last vestiges of his restrain, he entered her slowly, binding them together as she melted around him, matching his ardor with her own.

Sarah twisted wildly beneath him, reaching for the ecstasy shimmering just beyond reach. Her body suddenly stiffened, her breath unraveling into soft, fragmented cries.

As she called his name, Jordan felt his body dissolve into a series of mind-shattering explosions. Slowly, as the world settled back into its orbit, Jordan rolled onto the side, curving his body around hers.

The serenade of tree frogs hushed, completing their nocturnal concert. The moon slipped behind the mountain. In the quiet time that comes before the awakening of the morning, Sarah slept, curled confidently in the cradle of his arms.

He reached for the patchwork quilt at the bottom of the bed, and moving carefully in an effort not to disturb her, drew its folds over them. A cool morning breeze wafted in the open window as, one by one, the stars winked out and the black sky began to gray.

He lay on his side, watching her sleep. Nothing could be more perfect, could ever be more perfect, than greeting a new day with Sarah by his side.

She'd come to him the first time for reassurance, and they'd shared a rare and perfect pleasure. Tonight their passion had burst forth with the searing fire and brilliance of a nova. He now knew he loved her. She was a part of him, as inseparable from his life as the heart that beat within his chest.

Suddenly an icy wave of apprehension clutched at his insides. Even if she did return his love, could she forgive him when she discovered why he'd followed her to Mountain Springs? Could she love a man who had purposely set out to deceiver her, to discover her secrets and expose her?

There would be no story, of course. There had been no question of that since he discovered the harm and danger such exposure could do to her. Even if he hadn't loved her and wanted to protect her, he could never have written such a story. He was not a writer who exposed all for the sake of a check and a headline. That was one reason he stayed independent, so he could say no to any editor who insisted on the story regardless of undeserved harm or negative social value.

Would Sarah understand that? Would she believe him? And most of all, would she forgive him for continuing to hide his deceit? She'd told him all her secrets, exposed herself to him completely. Did she deserve less from him?

Tell her now, insisted the warning voice in his head.

Even as the panic welled in his throat, Jordan resisted. He couldn't tell her. Not yet. What if she refused to forgive him? What if she sent him away? He wouldn't be able to help protect her. Regardless of her protests, she was in danger. He couldn't ignore his carefully cultivated observations, his experienced instincts. Someone wished her harm. His confession would have to wait. Surely, a fate that led him to her wouldn't deny him a better time for confession.

Jordan drew a deep breath. So many problems to solve. Mountain Springs was Sarah's touchstone. She would never be happy cut completely adrift, traveling the world with him like a piece of flotsam.

Strangely enough, he realized, it was no longer enough for him, either. His old wanderlust had not completely disappeared, but it no longer held same urgency, the same compulsion. It was, he realized, because he'd found what he was looking for.

Somehow, they'd work it out. He'd take each problem, one at a time, and work through it, beginning with the first and most important—keeping Sarah safe. Unconsciously, his hold on her tightened.

Sarah murmured a protest and moved restlessly in his arms. Jordan loosened his grasp while continuing to hold her in the protective circle of his arms. Her body relaxed in his embrace. His eyes fastened on her lips, still invitingly pink and full from their earlier lovemaking.

How peacefully she slept, so close and trusting in his arms. If he lived two lifetimes, he'd never have enough of her. Somehow, he had to expose the threat, remove the danger and earn her forgiveness.

Chapter 13

Sarah pulled her car into the shade of an overhanging oak and looked at the high clouds forming in the southwest. They were, she knew, unlikely to bring either rain or relief from the summer heat. At least not today.

A cloud of jumping grasshoppers exploded from the dusty weeds beneath her feet. They reminded her of herself, of how crazy and scattered she'd been during the last ten days. If only it was possible to ignore her thoughts the same way she ignored the insects. She began her climb up the path above Hogscald toward Aunt Cinda's cabin. Despite challenge before her, her thoughts returned to the single subject dominating her mind—Jordan.

She'd talked with him by phone almost every day since they'd returned from Eureka Springs, although she had only seen him twice. It wasn't the same. She hadn't realized how much she'd come to depend on seeing him, seeing the sharp lines of his face soften when he smiled or his eyes lit up when they locked with hers.

Sometimes it seemed the whole world was conspiring to keep them apart. First, she'd helped her grandmother can and freeze a bumper crop of beans, and then she'd nursed Jimmy Joe through a forty-eight hour virus. T.J. asked for her help with a sick foal. And today, when at last she'd found herself with nothing urgent to do, she couldn't find Jordan.

He'd been out of town a lot lately, never saying specifically where he was going. However, the Mountain Springs grapevine was in good working order. During the last ten days he'd been reported in Fayetteville, in Rogers, and once, in Springdale. Only this morning Cousin Mabel called to gleefully tell her that she'd seen Jordan at the courthouse in Bentonville. Nosey as ever, Mabel had blatantly asked why.

Sarah wouldn't have answered even if she'd known, but that didn't help matters much. She, too, wondered what he was doing. As far as she knew, he wasn't researching another story. He told her that he'd completed the Monte Ne article.

Even as she tried to deny it, she knew what was eating at her. How much, if at all, would she be part of Jordan's future? They'd never discussed it, except for one offhand comment about finding a larger apartment in St. Louis. She knew he kept a small apartment there but rarely used it. She, on the other hand, was committed to St. Louis by a teaching contract for the next year. In fact, she had to return to St. Louis in a little over a month.