"Midnight Sins" - читать интересную книгу автора (Leigh Lora)

CHAPTER 2


Rafe sat in the jail cell, silent, staring unblinking at the stone wall across from him, trying to ignore the blood that stained his clothes nearly two days after Jaymi’s death. The sheriff refused to allow them to change clothes or shower. Swabs had been taken for DNA. But despite the tech’s request for the clothes, it had been refused. Sheriff Tobias commented that he needed to wear Jaymi’s blood a while longer to realize what he had done to her.

He could hear his recruiting officer in the sheriff’s office yelling. Ryan Calvert had a strong, booming voice. It carried through the jail and caught attention, but for Rafe, Logan, and Crowe there was very little that could penetrate their shock, even now.

“I know I killed him.” Crowe repeated again. “I put that knife straight inside his kidney. It was a kill blow.”

At twenty-two Crowe shouldn’t even know how to make a kill blow with a hunting knife.

But he had. Unfortunately, the blow had come too late.

They had come too late.

Rafe was yanked back, hours before, to the memory of Jaymi’s screams echoing through the forest, jerking the cousins awake as they camped at the side of the lake and sending them crashing through the forest to find her.

They had followed the glow of a fire higher up Crowe Mountain. Followed her screams which were agonized and enraged. They had rushed into the clearing as her attacker’s knife plunged into her side.

Crowe hadn’t been able to save her.

After the black-garbed figure had jumped from her, his pants still pushed below his hips his round eyes filled with fear as he ran. Crowe had crashed after him, tackling him to the ground as Rafe ran for Jaymi. He’d been aware of Crowe struggling with Jaymi’s attacker. Crowe’s knife had gleamed in the moonlight before a high-pitched scream had sounded and the assailant had managed to grip a stone and slam Crowe in the head with it, before escaping.

The knowledge of her death shadowing her gray-blue eyes, Jaymi’s last thoughts were of her sister. She was sick. “Take care of Cami,” Jaymi begged, crying. As he held her, as her blood soaked into his clothes and Logan made the desperate 911 call.

“Please, Rafe, swear it.” The harder she had sobbed, the faster her blood had flowed from her body.

“I swear, Jaymi,” he vowed hoarsely knowing she was struggling to hang on. “I swear I’ll always watch out for her.”

There was no saving her.

Rafe had applied pressure on the wound. He held her. He screamed at her and demanded she live. And still, she had reached up with one hand shaking, touched his cheek and whispered, “She loves you, Rafe. She’ll always love you so much, just as I love my Tye. Give her a chance when she grows up.” Tears had washed her face as he rocked her, his own cheeks damp as he realized he was losing her forever. “Promise me. Take care of Cami.” Then Jaymi had looked over his shoulder and smiled before whispering, “Rafe, it’s Tye.” Her lips had trembled as such joy flooded her face, her dying gaze. “He’s finally come for me, Rafe. Tye finally came for me—”

And she had died. With the greatest joy that Rafe had seen on her face since the day she had married her precious Tye, he watched Jaymi slip from life as he screamed out her name.

But the sheriff hadn’t believed the men.

The sheriff and his deputies had arrived ahead of the state police. Immediately he and his cousins had been handcuffed and arrested as Jaymi’s murderers. And now they were trying to pin the five other murders that had occurred that summer on Rafe and his cousins.

The black-masked serial killer had been caught on surveillance taking Jaymi outside the pharmacy the night before. Her sister, Cami, had reported Jaymi’s disappearance hours later when Jaymi didn’t return to the apartment with the medicine she had gone for.

That morning when the pharmacist went to unlock the back door he had found the medicine, Jaymi’s key, and the door unlocked.

When he had pulled up the camera footage for the sheriff, they had seen the abduction, which had been taped just hours before Logan made that desperate 911 call. She had been taken at the same time witnesses had seen him and his cousins getting gas in town several blocks away.

Ryan Calvert, the recruiting officer who had taken an unusual interest in him and his cousins, had managed to get a copy of that security footage before the sheriff had gotten to it. Gunnery Sergeant Calvert hadn’t rushed to the jail to bail them out, or to hire the nearest lawyer. The minute he’d heard the report over his radio and remembered seeing the Callahan cousins in town as he drove to his hotel, he rushed to the combined truck stop/gas station and restaurant and made nice with the manager, Missy Derringer.

Thankfully, Missy was a friend. Perhaps not a friend that publicly claimed the Callahans, but a friend nonetheless. They did have a few, sometimes.

Being the owner’s daughter had helped. She’d quickly copied the security footage before her father could order otherwise and gladly gave it to the brooding Marine demanding it.

It hadn’t helped.

They were still sitting there in a damn jail cell two days later wondering how the hell it had happened.

And Rafe couldn’t get the memory of it out of his head.

The sight of that smile, so filled with love as she whispered Tye had come for her. It sent a chill up his spine, even now. The sense that she had only been waiting, always been watching for him to come for her had swept over him.

Jaymi had made Rafe swear he would protect Cami. She was sick, alone in Jaymi’s apartment, according to Jaymi’s friend and neighbor. Cami cried continually. She was begging for Jaymi, and Cami’s aunt and uncle were considering having her hospitalized due to the severity of the bronchitis.

Rafe could still hear Ryan screaming about a vagrant who had been found with Crowe’s knife in his side, his pants undone, and Jaymi’s blood on him.

Ryan was yelling furiously about taking his own samples to a Denver lawyer and having them analyzed. He was demanding the sheriff release his nephews now, by God, before he sued the county for an illegal arrest. “That fucking security tape is all you dumb shits need,” he raged. “Now let them the hell out now.”

Rafe shook his head.

He and his cousins knew Ryan Calvert was a Callahan, but no one else had, until now. Their grandparents had given Ryan up for adoption, when they couldn’t afford to feed their children any longer, long before Samuel, Benjamin, and David had really been old enough to understand their baby brother was gone.

Rafe didn’t know the whole story; he’d only just learned that the recruiter who had come to Sweetrock was actually the youngest Callahan son. Ryan’s search for his birth family had spanned more than ten years. His commitment to his nephews only grew stronger with the knowledge that his parents, as well as his brothers, were gone.

When his brothers returned, it was learned the child their parents had had so late in life, was dead, or so they believed, and their ranch supposedly sold and split between the Corbins, Raffertys, and Robertses. Their entire lives had been torn apart and all anyone cared about was convincing them to leave Corbin County and accept the losses.

And now that Callahan son was back and raising hell.

Ryan was screaming something about DNA, vagrants, serial murders, and alibis, and Rafe was wondering why he gave a damn.

Standing up, Rafe moved to the door, his hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans, his gaze focused on the night Jaymi died rather than at the stone wall across from him.

How was Cami? He had promised Jaymi he would look after her.

But how was he supposed to take care of her? He’d promised, but he had signed up for the Marines last week. He, Logan, and Crowe. They’d had enough of Corbin County for a while, they’d decided. Like their fathers before them, they thought the military seemed the best option.

For the same reason, perhaps. Because they were tired of the bullshit.

And it all went back to the three families who ruled Corbin County like their own personal little fiefdom.

Generations before, James Randal Callahan had acquired eight hundred acres of prime ranch land from the government as had his three partners James Corbin the First, Andrew Roberts, and Jason Rafferty.

At the time, the four men had been the best of friends as well as business partners. They had acquired the land they needed, the cattle and the horses, then they’d found wives.

They’d settled the land tucked between the rising mountains and proceeded to build a dynasty. But somewhere in those first years, something had happened to change those friendships and the wealth that first James Randal Callahan had brought with him. While the others had thrived, the Callahan family had slowly begun to wither away until Rafe’s grandfather had nearly died of some lung infection.

Hospitalized, weak and fighting for his life, he hadn’t even been aware that the world believed his youngest son was dead. In fact, his wife, Eileen Callahan had contacted acquaintances that she had known were desperate for a child. She’d sold her baby for the money needed to save the rest of her family and the ranch that amounted to everything they possessed.

Until the morning of their deaths, they had been worth a fortune. For some reason, that morning they had withdrawn every cent they had at the bank, and accepted a paltry couple of hundred thousand for a ranch that was worth three times as much in stock alone.

That night, they had been racing toward Colorado Springs along the curving mountain road with its sheer drops and spectacular cliffs. Somehow, JR Callahan, the great-great-grandson of James Randal Callahan, had lost control of the truck and plunged down one of those cliffs.

Their vehicle had exploded on impact with such force that the explosion had been heard across the mountains. It was the next day, though, before anyone had seen the faint tendrils of smoke rising from the canyon below.

And how strange that years later, their three sons and the women they had married had died in the same manner when their SUV had gone over a cliff as they drove from Denver. The coincidence was simply too great. The deaths too similar.

“Ryan’s stopped blasting their eardrums,” Logan stated quietly as he and Crowe stood up from the cots they had been sitting on.

When the metal doors at the other end of the cell area opened, Gunnery Sgt. Ryan Callahan Calvert, of the Boston, Massachusetts, Calverts, strode in, followed by two military police personnel and the lawyer he’d brought from Denver the day before.

Ryan was scowling. His strong, weathered face was stone hard, his blue eyes like chips of ice, as he followed the sheriff, Randal Tobias, to the cell Rafe and his cousins had been confined in.

The fact that Ryan wasn’t happy was only eclipsed by the fact that Sheriff Tobias was glaring at the cousins with pure, vicious hatred.

“The little bastards fucking well better keep their asses in the county.” He shoved the key in each cell door, twisted it furiously, and slammed the iron doors open. “Fuck up and I’ll put a bullet in your heads myself.”

Rafe sneered. “Only if the barons give you permission,” he drawled, using the mocking nickname given to the patriarchs of the three families.

In the next second, Tobias buried his fist in Rafe’s ribs, stealing Rafe’s breath for a second and shoving him into the metal bars. Fury surged through Rafe in the next instant, pounding through his veins and throwing him forward after the sheriff, when Logan, Crowe, and Ryan suddenly grabbed him.

“Let it go, son,” Ryan snarled in his ear. “You should have kept your mouth shut or prepared for it.”

He was right. Rafe knew he was right. But still, Rafe wanted to take the bastard apart with his bare hands.

The sheriff sneered back at him.

Funny, Rafe thought distantly, the sheriff’s son, Archer, seemed to have a streak of honor and had been one of the few people in the county to come forward and object to the treatment Rafe and his cousins had suffered in the past few days. That was one of the reasons Tobias was so furious now. Having his son defend the three cousins couldn’t have gone over well with the barons who told Tobias when to breathe, when to fuck, and when to piss.

Rafe let his lip curl in the sheriff’s direction. “That’s okay, sir,” Rafe drawled. “You’re right: I should have been prepared. But I think the sheriff is very well aware of the price he’s paying for the orders he follows.”

He’d lost his son. Archer Tobias had stood in his father’s face the day before and told the other man he couldn’t believe they were related and that he prayed stupidity wasn’t hereditary.

“You little fucker,” Tobias snarled. “You’ll be back. When you do Archer will see you for the murdering fuck you are.”

Rafe shook his head. “Naw, he’ll see you and the barons for the manipulative monsters you are. That’s too bad, too, because I think Archer is tired of defending your eagerness to jump when they tell you to jump.”

“Get him out of here, Calvert,” the sheriff ordered. “Before I save the county the money to prosecute him and shoot him myself.”

Two military police laid their hands purposely on the butts of their weapons. The action didn’t go unnoticed.

“Let’s go,” Ryan ordered. “You all have a meeting with your lawyer, then you’re going to settle in somewhere until we can take care of this.”

“I have to take care of something else,” Rafe stated as they headed for the door.

“The hell you do,” Ryan growled as he followed close behind Rafe. “Don’t argue with me, Rafe. Not here.”

Rafe waited until they were outside. Turning back to his uncle, Rafe stared the other man in the eye, determination tightening his body and burning through his veins. “I promised Jaymi.” His fists clenched at the thought of what he had to do. “I’ll meet you wherever you need me to, but I have to take care of something first.”

“And what the hell could be more important than your freedom?” Ryan snarled as he gripped Rafe’s arm and pulled him around again.

“A promise,” Rafe snapped as he jerked his arm back. “And I don’t break my fucking promises.”

Cami was sick; Jack and Archer both had told Rafe she was alone at Jaymi’s apartment, and she hadn’t gotten her medicine. It was confiscated as evidence when it was found outside the pharmacy, and Rafe didn’t know if anyone had even cared to check on her.

He’d never imagined his life could come to this. At twenty, he thought he had the world by the tail, and despite the problems he and his cousins had faced in Corbin County, he’d believed it would all right itself in the end.

He couldn’t have imagine this could happen, not even in his worst nightmares.

That Jaymi could die in his arms. That he could have been arrested for her murder when he’d done everything he could to save her.

And as he stepped out into the bright summer light to the sight of nearly two dozen of Sweetrock’s residents glaring at him in accusation, he thought that perhaps he should have expected it.

Moving through the crowd was Clyde Ramsey, Rafe’s uncle on his mother’s side. A hard scowl covered Clyde’s face as he strode the distance in a bowlegged walk that bespoke his years on the little ranch he owned between Sweetrock and Aspen, Colorado, well away from the family his sister had married into.

Clyde had raised Rafe and his cousins when no one else would have them. Would he disown them now as well?

“Well, let’s go,” he growled as he stopped in front of them. “I have cattle to feed and horse stalls to clean. I don’t have time to waste.”

He’d come for them. When everyone else stood glaring at them, as usual, Clyde was there to protect them in his own gruff way.

“I have to make a stop first,” Rafe said quietly.

Clyde’s scowl deepened as he blew out a hard breath. “Course you do,” he harrumphed. “Let’s get it done so we can get home and figure this one out.” He shook his graying head. “Saving the three of you is turning into a mission in life, Rafe. And I’m an old man. Find a way to fix this.”

He didn’t give them time to answer. He turned on his heel and strode to his truck, expecting them to follow.

“Go on; we’ll be behind you,” Ryan told him. “And hurry with that stop you have to make. We have a long day ahead of us if we’re going to figure this out, as you say.”

They had more than a hard day ahead of them, Rafe thought. There would also be a hard life because he, Logan and Crowe would be back. He knew his cousins, he knew himself, and he knew there wasn’t a chance in hell he was going to let the barons get rid of him this easy.

There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that the security footage would be enough to prove their innocence. They were never stupid, and they never let anyone know their plans. They’d learned better than that as young teenagers when they were accused of stealing cars, cash, and a variety of other items.

No one, not even Clyde, had known they were camping out at the lake that weekend. Most weekends they spent alone at the ranch after the ranch hands left, working on fences or equipment.

Killing Jaymi that close to their campsite was a clear attempt to frame them. Rafe was beginning to wonder if the murders the FBI had put down to a serial killer weren’t an attempt to frame the Callahan cousins instead.

“Here. The keys to the street and trail.” Logan stepped in front of him as they neared the vehicles parked on the other side of the town square. “You’re going to check on Cami, aren’t you?”

He gave a brief nod.

“We’ll follow behind you. Listen to me, Rafe,” he snarled as Rafe moved to shake his hand. “This town is crazy right now, man, and you know it. Let me call Jack and Tobias. They’ll come get her and make sure someone takes care of her. You can’t protect her right now. It’s going to take all we can do to protect ourselves.”

And he was right. Too damned right.

“Give me a few minutes to make sure she’s in the apartment,” Rafe told him. “If she’s not there, then she’s at her parents’. I just want to be sure.”

After stopping behind the apartments long enough to quickly change into the fresh jeans and T-shirt his uncle had thought to bring him, Rafe headed upstairs to Jaymi’s apartment.

He still had the key. She had never asked for it back. Unlocking the door, he stepped inside before closing it securely behind him and staring around silently.

If he hadn’t known Jaymi was dead, then he would have expected it the minute he entered the apartment. Her presence had always been there when she was alive.

It was gone now, replaced with the heavy weight of grief that wrapped around him and seemed to permeate the entire room.

He had hoped Cami would be at her parents’. That was where he had expected her to be. He damned sure didn’t expect her to be there alone. As he stepped to the open bedroom door, he saw how wrong he was. She was here alone, huddled in the bed, exhaustion marking her sleeping face.

But at least she had her medicine and beside the bed was a glass of chilled water. Someone had been checking up on her at least.

Breathing out roughly, he sat on the side of the bed and tucked her blanket around her shoulders gently.

Instantly, feather-soft lashes lifted, and soft, blue-ringed dove gray eyes filled with an overload of tears.

“Rafe.” Her breathing hitched as the tears overflowed.

“Come here, Cami-girl.” He opened his arms to her, his throat tightening as she threw herself against his chest, the sobs tearing from her as he closed his eyes and fought against his own pain.

“Go ahead and cry, sweetheart,” he whispered gently as he laid his cheek against the top of her head and ignored the trail of liquid warmth he felt ease from his eyes. “Cry for both of us.”

He’d lost his best friend, and he was damned if he knew how to handle it. He hadn’t been able to protect her as he’d sworn to Tye he would do. He had broken the only promise the man who had called him brother had ever asked of him.

As he held Cami, rocked her, and felt the grief that tore through her, he wondered why Jaymi had thought to entrust him with her sister’s protection when he’d just failed to protect Jaymi.

How could he even trust himself now to protect this little waif who had managed to worm her way into his heart?

He’d promised. He’d find a way to do it.

Jaymi couldn’t have known what she was asking. She had no idea he and his cousins were signed to go into the military. They’d all chosen the Marines. And who did that leave to look after Cami?

“Oh my God!”

The frightened squeak had his head jerking around to see Ella Flannigan, Cami’s father’s sister-in-law as she stood poised just inside the doorway.

She looked like she was ready to run screaming.

“Rafer Callahan, you just scared the shit out of me.” Her expression turned chastising rather than terrified as she noticed the way her niece held on to him as though he were a lifeline.

Compassion and sorrow filled her eyes.

“I promised Jaymi.” He swallowed tightly as Cami’s sobs began to ease as exhaustion seemed to tax her weakened body. “I promised to look after her.”

She blinked quickly before nodding. “I’ll be in the living room with Eddy.”

Her husband hadn’t been here when Rafe entered the apartment and he hadn’t heard anyone come in. Ella looked as though she had just woken up, so he sincerely doubted her husband was here. But he would be here quickly enough considering their small house was only blocks away.

He nodded, his hand stroking down the back of Cami’s head as he felt her relaxing marginally.

She would be asleep in a minute, he thought. The bronchitis medication was obviously keeping her sedated enough to allow her to rest.

“I miss her, Rafe,” she whispered, her weary and tear-thickened voice slicing across his heart.

“So do I, sweetheart,” he whispered. “Go to sleep now. Get better for me, okay?”

He couldn’t leave while she was still ill, and the second he and his cousins were cleared, he was out of there. For a while.

“Don’t leave me, Rafe.” Misery filled her voice. “Please, don’t you leave me, too.”

“I’ll be here, Cami,” he promised. “For as long as possible, I’ll be here.”

He wouldn’t upset her more by telling her he would have to leave soon.

It eased her enough to allow her to drift back into sleep, though, and when he laid her back in the bed and pulled the covers over her, he wiped his hand down his face tiredly.

He wondered if he would ever sleep again. If there was any way in the world to sleep at all after Jaymi’s death.

Moving to the living room to face her aunt and the smart-assed sarcasm her uncle Eddy had in abundance, Rafe found himself unwilling to listen to any further insults.

Mark and Eddy hadn’t been outside the jail when they were released, despite the fact that he had more than expected Mark Flannigan to cause a public scene.

For once, Eddy Flannigan was quiet when Rafe walked into the room.

Ella stood next to the kitchen, leaning against the door frame while Eddy stood looking through the large picture window.

“Jaymi’s lease is paid through the next three months,” Ella said heavily. “Her father wants her to stay away for a while. And her mother isn’t doing well.”

Eddy turned around, and he and his wife shared a look that had Rafe’s gaze narrowing. “They don’t want their own daughter now, after losing their eldest.”

Eddy’s expression was tight and hard as Ella’s eyes filled with tears again.

“It’s a complicated situation, Rafe,” Ella finally stated. “But we’ll take care of Cami the best we can.”

“Let me know if she needs anything,” he bit out roughly. “I’ll take care of it.”

“She’s not your responsibility,” Eddy growled then. “We will take care of her.”

“Let me know,” he repeated softly, watching as Ella slowly nodded. “I have to leave now, but if you don’t mind, after—” He swallowed, the movement tight and mixed with fury and pain. “Once we’re cleared, we have to leave.”

“Surprise,” Eddy grunted.

Rafe ignored him as his wife sliced a disapproving look his way.

“We’ll take care of her, Rafe, and if she needs anything we can’t provide, we’ll contact you,” Ella promised.

It was far more than he had imagined he would get from the two.

“Thank you, Ella.”

There was nothing more he could do, and no other way to look after Cami as he’d promised her sister he would do.

He left the apartment without saying anything more, and as he closed the door behind him, he could have sworn he heard Cami cry out his name.

Rather than turning back, he forced himself to walk down the hall and down the steps to the lobby before exiting the building at the back once again.

His cousins, two uncles, and the two military police personnel were still waiting on him. Moving to the motorbike, he kicked the ignition and hit the gas the minute the motor throbbed to life. Tearing from the driveway, he headed out of town and toward the Ramsey ranch he had been raised on.

They would be cleared. He knew they would be, but this town would never admit they hadn’t committed the crimes. At least a large majority of it wouldn’t.

That didn’t mean he would stay away. It didn’t mean he had any intentions of giving up the battle to claim the inheritance that was still locked in litigation, or the land that was rightfully his, Logan’s, and Crowe’s.

On the contrary. He would only fight harder.


Cambria at twenty-one


She slipped out of the hotel, her heart racing out of control, pain and regret tearing through her in equal measure. It had taken every particle of strength she possessed to ease from his arms, ease from the big bed, and hurriedly dress. Leaving the hotel room had been even harder.

Her body ached in her most personal places, her nipples were tender, her clit still throbbed with lazy satisfaction, and she could still feel the warmth where his palm had spanked her lightly as he thrust into her from behind.

The sun was barely peeking over the horizon, the blizzard that had grounded the planes in Denver having lifted several hours before. The forecast was for cold and only partly cloudy skies. The text on her phone said her plane would depart in two more hours, taking her home.

Rafer was once again leaving Corbin County and heading back to wherever the Marines needed him.

He had changed in the past seven years, but some things about her hadn’t changed. Rafer still took her breath away. He still made her feel things she didn’t understand and had no idea how to control. But, unlike seven years ago, those feelings were stronger, hotter, and more mature. With that maturity there was the arousal, the lust and hunger that she couldn’t fight.

Rafer’s smile, the hunger in his sapphire-blue eyes, the sensuality that filled his expression. Thick, black lashes that were much too long to fairly belong to a man. His hair wasn’t as long as it once was. Rather than falling to his shoulders, it was almost military short and gave his face a more savage, forbidden cast.

But did she have the good sense to fear what he was capable of doing to her? What she knew he was capable of making her feel?

Of course she didn’t.

Cami?

She lifted her head from the book she was reading, more bored with the story than anything else, but the nearly deserted airport wasn’t providing entertainment of any sort either.

But that voice—

She heard that voice in her dreams so often.

Her gaze rose to meet his brilliant gaze.

“Rafer.” She hadn’t realized his name would slip past her lips so easily until it did.

It was a whisper, and even she recognized the husky need in her own voice.

Her heart began to race at an almost brutal pace, thumping against her breasts erratically as she took a shaky breath.

“Stranded?” His head tilted to the side as he stood before her, a heavy duffel hanging from his hand as though it weighed nothing.

He hadn’t changed. Other than the maturity in his face, the experience in his expression, and the male hunger that gleamed in his sapphire eyes.

He was dressed in street clothes. Jeans and T-shirt, leather coat and boots. His broad shoulders looked a mile wide. His thighs powerful, his legs long and strong.

The moment her gaze traveled over him she could feel her pussy creaming, her clit throbbing, her nipples tightening and hardening, and her entire body sensitizing.

She knew arousal. She had been thirteen the first time she’d felt that breathlessness. At fourteen she’d become aware of her body when she saw him. Rafer, Logan, and Crowe had come home for a week because of yet another lawsuit the Corbins, Raffertys, and Robertses had lodged against their inheritances. When he had, he’d made sure to find a few moments to say hello.

The summer she turned fifteen, they were back again. That year, Rafe had danced with her at the Spring Fling Social. He had entered the festivities, walked straight to her in his black evening suit, and asked her to dance.

He’d asked her how she was doing, how school was. He’d asked her about her parents, about her aunt and uncle. He’d asked her if she needed anything and she’d wanted to cry because all she could think of was how much she had missed him and the fact that it felt so nice to be in his arms. She wanted to be there forever.

The next four years were variations of the same theme, except with each year, with each phase of her own sexual maturity, Cami had come to recognize the signs of arousal, of need, of awakening sensuality whenever she saw him. Over the years she’d seen him several times, and as she matured, those meetings had become even more heated, then explosive, until it had finally flamed out of control.

Until he had stood on the other side of the table at an airport that had nearly been deserted, for once, chance working in the favor of the travelers to provide the majority with accommodations in the nearby hotels. Unfortunately she hadn’t been part of the majority.

“Stranded, Cami?” he repeated the question, his gaze somber but lit with an inner glow of hunger. That glow had been there since the summer she had turned eighteen and slipped out to a street dance in Denver the night she and her aunt had stayed over.

It was there between them, like a live current, pulsing beneath their flesh. He kissed her that night and nothing had been the same since.

“Yes,” she whispered, breathless. She was always breathless around him. Always filled with anticipation and need.

He held out his hand.

A strong, broad palm, his fingers looking powerful, capable, and God help her all she could think about was how it would feel if they were stroking between her thighs, parting the lips of her pussy, rimming the juice-saturated slit of her entrance.

The need for it was so strong, so striking, she was forced to press her thighs together, wishing there was some way to ease the sudden, unbidden throbbing of her clit.

But nothing could have kept her from taking his hand and letting him pull her from the hard plastic stool she had been sitting on.

Their gazes locked, hunger rushing through her body, the need to touch him clamoring through her senses. The feel of his palm, calloused and warm surrounding hers, sent a spike of sensation shooting straight to her womb.

A sensitivity she had never felt before, a need, rose inside her, dark and so sexual, so overriding she could barely keep from begging him to take her at that moment.

“Such hungry eyes,” he whispered. “Every year they’re darker, more mysterious, and always filled with that hunger. Tell me, Cami, how much darker and hungrier could they get?”

Like a switch flipping on, a breaker sending electricity surging through her body, Cami felt the arousal heightening uncontrollably.

She could barely breathe. Getting enough oxygen simply wasn’t going to happen. She had waited so long for the intensity of the hunger she saw in his eyes now. She had endured three years, three hard kisses that had grown in intensity. The awareness that his control was stronger than his need for her, and the knowledge that her body refused to accept any other man.

“Have you made me wait long enough?” she asked him then, realizing in that moment the delicate dance they had been weaving with each other since the summer she turned eighteen was now beginning to whirl out of control.

His gaze slid slowly to her lips as he took a single step to her. As he held her hand with one of his, the other slid into her hair, all the while his eyes holding hers captive, mesmerizing her, drawing her into a vortex of sensation that laid waste to any objections she could have thought of. Not that she had intentions of thinking of any.

His head lowered as he cupped her cheek, held her still, then brushed his lips over hers.

She was a virgin, but she wasn’t completely ignorant of her own body, her needs, or the arousal that just the thought of Rafe could inspire inside her.

There, in the middle of a nearly deserted coffee shop, his lips slowly pressed against hers, his tongue parting her lips licking against them. He must have dropped the duffel bag, because she felt his arm curve around her hips and pull her closer as the kiss began to deepen.

It was exploratory and knowing. It was rife with demand and acquisition. Rafer demanded and Cami had no choice but to submit. The effect he had on her wouldn’t have allowed her to turn away. The pleasure he gave her, the heat that rushed through her senses and swept over her body, was simply too addictive to deny.

It seemed more a dream than reality.

On the drive from the airport to Rafer’s hotel in the four-wheel drive he’d had waiting for him, the blizzard raged around them, at times so heavy it seemed to surround them in their own little world.

Once they reached his room—

Cami’s breath caught in sharp remembrance. Sensation tore through her, clenching in the depths of her newly awakened flesh, her clit throbbing.

Tearing herself away from him had been all but impossible. As she flagged down a cab and stepped inside, she still couldn’t believe she had actually managed to do it.

He had to have been exhausted.

No, that wasn’t it.

With a heavy heart she admitted the truth.

He’d pretended to sleep and he’d allowed her to slip away.

And she was too big a coward to even guess why.

* * *


Rafe watched Cami slide into the cab, saw her gaze lift to the window where he stood carefully behind the curtain and narrowed his eyes on her thoughtfully.

He’d let her leave. Everything inside his soul had demanded he hold on to her, that he tighten his arms around her and fuck her until she was too damned tired to try to slip from him while she thought he slept.

But what was the point? If not now, she would have slipped out later. While he showered. Perhaps while he met with Logan and Crowe at the lawyer’s office. There was no way to hold Cami if she didn’t want to be held, and Rafe knew it.

And she was simply too damned scared of what had happened between them not to run.

Blowing out a hard breath, he looked around the hotel room, then finally focused on the incriminating stain on the sheets.

Cami had been a virgin.

His throat tightened at the proof of her innocence, at the knowledge that he had been the first to touch her so intimately. That he had been first to possess the liquid heat and fist-tight depths of her pussy.

The first to hear her cries of completion.

Instantly, furiously, his dick was spike hard, the head throbbing in renewed hunger. Perhaps it was a good thing she had slipped out so early, because fucking her into complete screaming submission had been all he could have thought of. Logan and Crowe would have had to drag him from the room.

All these years, along with his cousins, he had fought to hold on to what was his. Not just the property their parents had left to them but also the cash that had been frozen in their accounts since the day the Callahan brothers and their wives had been killed.

Fourteen years. He and his cousins had been fighting for their inheritance for twelve years and there were times he swore it was a battle that wouldn’t be won until the Corbins, Robertses, and Raffertys were dead.

But, as imperative as this appointment was, as crucial to their case as it was, still, he didn’t know if he could have forced himself away from Cami long enough to have made it on time. She did something to his brain. He couldn’t help it. She managed to get under his skin and made it damned impossible to think of anything but touching her once she had stood up from that table and he’d seen all the hunger filling her eyes.

He’d fought it. God knew, he’d been fighting it at least for the past three years. Each time he’d seen her since she had turned eighteen, once a year, it had ended in a kiss. A kiss that had nearly flamed out of control last year. She was like this fire he couldn’t resist because when he was with her, he found the cold that usually encased him becoming heated and warm.

Admitting to it now was a moot point. It was there like a fire in the night, like a temptation no man could be expected to resist. That was Cami. His own personal temptation. The one woman he couldn’t turn away from no matter how hard he tried.

Rafe was being driven insane by the need to have her again already. She hadn’t been gone five minutes and the need throbbing through his body was like a vicious hunger, impossible to deny.

Pushing his fingers through his hair, Rafe blew out a hard breath before heading toward the shower.

He had things to do. Things that didn’t include pacing the floors because Cami had slipped out of his bed.

And it sure as hell didn’t include chasing after her, no matter how desperately he wanted to.


Two months later


Fate conspired against her. It laughed at her. The playful bitch did its best to destroy her, Cami thought as she stared out the window of the apartment her sister had once lived in. The one Cami now lived in herself.

She couldn’t seem to stop crying, sobbing actually. It had been two months, eight weeks to the day since she had run into Rafe while in Denver for educational training. It was the third year they had run into each other and shared a night of passion.

Her palm was pressed flat against her abdomen, the realization of the emptiness that existed there tearing through her again as her breathing hitched and she cried with all the rage and lost hope that filled her.

She was aware of her aunt in the kitchen behind her. Ella had brought Cami from the hospital that morning and had stayed with her throughout the day. She had listened to Cami’s sobs silently, and a few times she thought she had caught her aunt crying as well.

Cami’s mother wasn’t here.

Margaret Flannigan hadn’t come to the hospital. She hadn’t called or come to the apartment. Cami’s father had answered the phone when she had called, though.

“Your mother’s busy,” he’d informed her when she asked to speak with Margaret.

“Please, Dad,” Cami remembered whispering tearfully. “Please let her know I need to talk to her.”

“So you can cry over losing that little bastard he gave you?” Cami’s father had rasped furiously. “Your sister is turning over in her grave, Cami. Your mother’s heart is broken. How could you allow the monster that stole your sister from us to touch you? Are you so desperate to take everything your sister had that you have to take the lover that killed her? The child she couldn’t have? Maybe we’ll all get lucky and he’ll kill you next rather than some innocent, helpless girl.”

Then he’d hung up on her.

Cami had listened numbly to the dial tone in her ear for long moments before placing the phone back in its cradle slowly.

At least, for a while, he had made her stop crying. Shock had driven every emotion she could have felt so deep inside her that it had taken hours for her to make sense of what he had said, what he had meant.

“Cami.” Ella stepped to the window seat as Cami continued to stare onto the street below. “Come to the house, baby. Eddy’s beside himself worrying about you, and I don’t want to leave you here alone.”

“I’ll be fine,” she said.

She was lying. She would never be fine again. As long as she lived, she would never be fine again.

She had lost her baby. The baby she and Rafer had created the night they had come together two months before.

It hadn’t been a blizzard. She told herself it had been a coincidence, nothing more. Just as she told herself every year and managed to convince herself of it. There was no way he could have known where she would be and when. There was no way he could have been heading to the airport on the same day, at the same time, to the same city, every year. It couldn’t be coincidence; that was simply stretching the explanation further than she could believe.

But what else could it be?

The only other explanation was more than she could imagine. That it was by design.

“Are you going to call him, Cami?” Ella asked gently.

Cami shook her head, sobbing again as she turned her head from her aunt.

Cami ached. Inside, out. To the depths of her soul, to the last particle of her spirit, she ached until she wondered if it were possible to die of it.

“He would want to know.”

Ella eased down beside her niece, her heart breaking for the girl. It was all Ella could do to hold back her own tears. To keep from sobbing with Cami.

God, how could her mother leave her alone now? How could Margaret have left this precious, beautiful child to fend for herself against the cruelties her father waged against her?

Did Margaret even know the many, many times Mark had separated them? Had her sister-in-law even realized, in the Valium haze she existed within, that her daughter was being tormented by the man who had sworn to protect her?

“Cami,” Ella whispered as she laid her hand on the girl’s knee. “You don’t have to go through this alone. He would want to know.”

She shook her head again.

“Why?”

Cami turned back to her, the gray of her eyes like storm clouds, swirling with pain, with anger and desperation. “Hasn’t he had enough taken from him?” she asked painfully. “I can’t tell him, Ella. I can’t do that to him.”

No matter how much she needed him.

“Don’t tell him.” Cami suddenly gripped Ella’s arm, as though she knew the thoughts that hadn’t yet fully formed in her mind. “Please, Aunt Ella. Don’t do that to me. Don’t let me be someone else that’s hurt him. Please.” The last was a sob as more tears fell from her eyes, joining those that already had soaked her face.

Ella nodded hesitantly. She didn’t like it. She hated it. But this was Cami’s choice, and she chose to bear the burden alone rather than allow that young man to know that he had lost something so precious as the child he had created with Cami. She clearly remembered how he had come to her after getting out of jail, accused of Jaymi’s murder, his own eyes wet with tears as he comforted Cami then. He would have come for her now as well.

Could she blame her niece? Wouldn’t she have protected Eddy if the situation were the same though? Would she have done anything different? She knew she wouldn’t have.

Ella sighed heavily. “How much more are you going to carry alone, Cami?”

Cami shook her head, those tear-drenched eyes breaking Ella’s heart. “Don’t,” Cami whispered. “Just let it go. Just let me go, Ella. Please. I can’t talk right now.”

Ella let her go and understood the request. Cami had whispered those words to her the first time, nine years ago, when her sister had been laid in the ground.

The funeral had been over and everyone had left. Ella and Eddy had been unable to find Cami until the funeral director had called.

Cami had stayed at the gravesite, and she was silently watching as they buried her sister’s coffin. He was terrified if someone didn’t come for her, then they might be laying her beside Jaymi soon.

Ella had rushed to Cami’s side, trying to convince her to return to the house.

Let me go, Aunt Ella,” her voice had echoed with such pure, deep agony that even Eddy had grimaced, forced to turn his head away to fight his tears. “Let me go, before I hurt you, too.”

Cami had just drifted away then. Ella had watched her eyes lose emotion, her expression become distant despite the tears that rained down her face. Emotionally and spiritually, Cami had drifted away from them.

That was what she was doing now. Turning back to the window, she stared out onto the street, and Ella wondered what Cami saw there. Where did Cami go when she sat there and stared onto the sun-drenched street that seemed quieter and more peaceful than it ever had, as though the world itself were holding its breath and grieving with her?

Ella wasn’t able to leave Cami. She couldn’t walk away from her. That was exactly what her mother had done. Ella refused to do it.

She stayed in the background, watched until Cami finally fell asleep, her small, fragile body curled into the window seat, her arms wrapped around her self as though there was no other way to feel the warmth of human touch.

And for a moment, for the briefest second, Ella nearly broke her word to Cami and called Rafe. She actually turned to go into the kitchen to retrieve her cell phone.

Because Ella knew he would come to Cami the minute he could, and she knew he would make Cami come back to them. But Cami carried enough guilt. Ella couldn’t imagine heaping more on her delicate shoulders.

Instead, Ella laid her head on the kitchen table and silently allowed her own tears to fall for the girl who deserved so much more.


Three years later, Cami at twenty-four


Coincidence.

Cami simply didn’t believe in it.

At least, not to the extent that it seemed someone wanted everyone in Corbin County, Colorado, to believe in it.

She stood on the edge of the small crowd, toward the back, as the Reverend Mayer said the final prayer over Clyde Ramsey’s coffin.

Rafer Callahan’s uncle and the only member of the family who hadn’t disowned him when his parents had died was laid to rest on a sunny summer day. Twenty-two years to the day that the Callahan brothers and their wives had gone over a mountain cliff, Clyde Ramsey had fallen from his horse and broken his neck.

The coincidence was simply too strong, especially considering that the so-called accident had come only days after he had filed papers with the courthouse that gave his nephew possession of the 450-acre ranch Clyde owned.

A ranch that Cami knew he had had several resort investors contact him over selling or at least leasing part of the property.

She was certain she had heard the sonic boom the second the three barons had received the news.

Now Clyde Ramsey was dead, and the ranch the three powerful families had been trying to buy was about to become the center of yet another court battle for Clyde’s heir, Rafer Callahan.

The battles begun twenty-two years ago after his parents’ death still hadn’t been resolved either. As of six months ago, the inheritance Rafe and his cousins had been entitled to was still frozen as part of the litigation the families of their mothers had brought against it.

Those families were still attempting to deprive their grandsons of everything their mothers had left to them on their deaths. Especially the property, left in trust that had been bought from Rafer, Logan, and Crowe’s grandparents JR and Eileen Callahan. A transaction that their sons, Rafer, Logan, and Crowe’s fathers had sworn their parents would have never signed.

To deflect suspicion, the vast amount of property had been placed in trust for the youngest daughters in each family. That inheritance went to each child on her thirtieth birthday. Those daughters, as fate would have it, had married the Callahan sons whose parents had supposedly sold it. Those three daughters had turned thirty only days before their deaths.

Coincidence.

Cami hated that word.

Corbin County and its three powerful families were haunted by the coincidences of blood and death when it came to those who opposed them or possessed something they coveted. So far, the Callahan cousins had managed to evade the repercussions of that opposition. Evaded it … or perhaps the powerful barons hadn’t yet managed to overcome their consciences to outright murder their own grandsons.

Of course, this was all supposition on Cami’s part. Or her paranoia as her mother liked to say while smiling back at Cami indulgently, if a little absently.

How her mother had changed. Even before Jaymi’s death, Margaret Flannigan had been prone to depression and had lived in a Valium haze. In the ten years since Jaymi’s death, her depression had deepened, especially after her parents had moved to Aspen two years ago. Four years later than they had planned, as Cami understood it.

Her parents had been making plans to move the year Jaymi had died and had been trying to convince her to move as well.

The big day would have come the summer Cami graduated from high school. But no one had mentioned the move to her. Her parents’ way of silently emphasizing the fact that she wasn’t welcome, Cami thought mockingly.

How different families could be.

Her parents rarely acknowledged her presence, and even when her mother did seem to notice Cami, it was with loving surprise. She never doubted her mother’s affection for her, simply Margaret’s ability to deal with the world with her husband in it. On the other hand, Cami’s uncle Eddy and Aunt Ella and had treated Cami like the daughter they never had. They had always been there for her.

They had bought her senior prom dress for her, despite the fact that Cami hadn’t wanted to go. Thankfully, her friend Jack Townsend had had a friend willing to escort her, Archer Tobias, the son of the former sheriff. Archer was now Corbin County’s sheriff. Which surprised her considering the fact the barons had not backed his election.

Her aunt and uncle had helped her get her a loan for college, and when Cami had lost her best friend that last week of college, it had been her aunt and uncle who had dried her tears.

But even more important, when she had lost the one thing she had wanted above anything else in the world it had been Eddy and Ella who had rescued her. They had forced her to move out of her apartment and had brought her into their own home.

Now Cami stood watching another friend being buried.

As the Reverend Mayer drew the prayer to a close and the small crowd began drifting away, Cami made her way to the gravesite and the three men gathered there.

“Rafer.” She stood in front of him, feeling just as vulnerable, just as weak and hungry, in the face of the powerful dominant male she faced, as she ever had.

“Hey there, kitten.” He greeted her softly, the dark remnants of arousal in his voice sending heat flashing through her.

She couldn’t avoid the arms that wrapped around her. She tried. She tried to make herself step back and then tried to make herself stiffen in his arms. She told herself she couldn’t feel this, couldn’t allow it, and she definitely couldn’t have him.

It didn’t work.

She felt herself soften against him involuntarily, and felt her arms go around his shoulders. Her face pressed against his powerful chest as she relished the subtle heat and powerful warmth that eased the chill inside her soul. She drew in the scent of him. Uniquely male, hinting at the dominance, at the sheer male strength that filled his body. Cami could feel her senses coming alive. The dormant warmth and sensuality flaring to life inside her, and reminding her of the pleasure she had once found in his arms.

She let herself relish those seconds in his arms. Let herself revel in them and told herself she wasn’t going to allow anything more.

She couldn’t allow anything more. She had nearly lost her will to survive when she lost their child. She couldn’t risk that again.

“You’re as beautiful as ever, Cami,” he whispered against her ear. “And you make me just as damned hungry.”

And he was hard.

His cock pressed against her lower belly and she felt his hunger for her begin to burn. As well as her own. Heat built between her thighs as her clit awakened with a vengeance. Her womb clenched, sending a rush of breathlessness through her as she felt the liquid response to his touch dampen her pussy.

She couldn’t, wouldn’t, allow herself to give in to it.

Drawing back was even harder than slipping from his embrace and his hotel room three years before.

“I’m sorry about your uncle,” she said, stepping back. “He was a good man.”

“He was as unbending as steel and just as rigid.” Rafe was smiling, though, his blue eyes amused at the description.

“But he loved the three of you,” she reminded Rafe softly.

“He tolerated us anyway,” he tried to tease her.

She could see the knowledge in his gaze, though, that she wasn’t returning the warmth, the teasing, where she had always teased back before. She was drawing away from him because she had no idea how to be close to him without wanting him, needing him; without taking everything she knew he would be willing to give her. All she had to do was reach out for it. Reach out for him.

Oh God, it hurt so bad to pull away from the warmth of his arms, to see that flash of hurt and anger brighten his eyes. It was like tearing a chunk of her soul out of her body. And here she thought she had already lost her soul.

She hated how weak she was, and she hated that she had no idea how to take that risk again and survive it. She had lost too many people, too many things in her life that she had loved. Her mother, her father, or rather accepting he had no desire to be her father. And her child.

The thought of allowing herself to weaken that far, to allow his touch again terrified her. The chances of losing Rafe were incredibly high. The chance of standing and watching as his body was lowered into the ground increased every day that he was in Corbin County.

So she stepped back. Her fingers clutched the edge of her purse as she gazed up at him in regret.

“I just wanted to say hello,” she said softly. “And to tell you how sorry I am.”

His expression closed, when he saw her deliberately put distance between them. His eyes burned with anger.

“You shouldn’t have wasted your time, Cami,” he drawled. “Run on home now, before I show you exactly how I make little girls like yourself admit that you know me a hell of a better than you’re pretending.”

“I’ve never pretended Rafe,” she told him, refusing to hide, refusing to back down. “I’ve simply learned how to accept reality.”

“Whose reality?” he snorted. “The truth or the reality the barons attempt to force feed everyone?”

It was better that he was angry, she told herself. So much better that he hate her. Because any other emotion would just cause her to break the promise she had made to herself. The promise that she would never risk her soul again to the extent that simply surviving seemed an insurmountable obstacle.

And the vow that he would never know what they had both lost. That he would never, ever know exactly how it had destroyed her.

“Good-bye, Rafer,” she said softly. “Take care.”

He didn’t speak as she turned and walked away, but she could feel his gaze on her back. It was like a caress. A dominant, fiery stroke of his hand along her body. A phantom reminder of everything she couldn’t have. Of everything she now denied herself.