“Did you manage to come up with a plan to raid the old lady’s house?” I stopped near the bench and studied the floor plans on the screen. “That place is huge—the damn safe could be anywhere.”
“It’ll be in the library or the office, most likely.” He reached across the bench and picked up the plastic bags filled with the clothes he’d bought me. “You want to go get dressed?”
I looked at the clothes, then at him. “You sure you want me to do that?”
He gave me a crooked smile that was filled with little boy cheekiness, and yet there was nothing innocent about the desire and need in his eyes. “To be honest, no. But you lost a lot of blood today and no matter how you feel or how well that wound has healed, you’re still looking a little pale. You need to rest, not exert yourself even more.”
I raised an eyebrow, a smile teasing my lips. “Might be my one and only offer.”
“I doubt it.”
“See, there’s that arrogance coming to the fore again.”
“Go get changed, then I’ll tell you about our plans for tomorrow.”
I gave a theatrical sigh, and he chuckled lightly and pushed me toward the door. “Trust me, sweetheart, this restraint is only going to last as long as your recovery. Enjoy it while you can.” He tossed me the T-shirt. “Use that to dry yourself.”
I went. After stripping off his jacket, I toweled myself dry and dragged on the underclothing, jeans, and sweatshirt he’d bought. The man was a good judge of women’s sizes, because they all fit like a glove. I shoved the jacket back on, not only because the night was getting colder, but it smelled so good, and headed back out.
His gaze swept down my length, and an approving sort of smile touched his lips. “Now, that’s what I call a hip-hugging pair of jeans.”
“One has to wonder how many girlfriends you’ve had over the years to be able to judge a woman’s size so well.” I tossed the empty plastic bag and damp T-shirt on the bench, then began to finger-comb my hair.
“Ain’t denying there’s been a few.” He shrugged. “I’m a man. That’s what men do.”
I raised an eyebrow. “So you’re admitting to being a whore?”
“Nope. Just oversexed.”
“Says the man who recently said no.”
“Hey, that was consideration. A rare event you should appreciate, not sneer at.”
I gave a disdainful sniff. “I believe you promised to share your plans for tomorrow once I was dressed.”
He caught my arm and tugged me closer. “The house is up for sale—”
“She’s selling? That can’t be a good thing.”
“And maybe she simply wants a smaller house,” Trae said, amusement in his eyes. “Trust me, she’s not living in some little beach shack.”
“Maybe.” But I couldn’t help feeling that it did mean something. Or was that simply my pessimistic half coming to the fore again, and refusing to believe anything could actually go right for a change?
“So her selling the house helps us how?”
“You and I are going to play newlyweds doing a little house hunting.” His lips were so close to mine his breath teased my lips with warmth. “Think you can manage that?”
I snuggled closer, pressing my hips against his, even as I pursed my lips. “I don’t know. That could take more acting skills than I’ll possess tomorrow.”
“What can I do to convince you it’ll be worthwhile?”
He dropped a kiss first on my left cheek, then on my right, and finally on the tip of my nose. Frustration and warmth shivered through me.
“You could stop teasing and just get down to business.”
“That depends on what you mean by business.” His blue eyes were bright with mischief and desire and something else, something that seemed to fire right through my soul, setting it alight.
“Will you just kiss me, idiot?”
He took possession of my lips even before the last word left my mouth, taking them, tasting them. Claiming them in a way that was all male, all possession, all desire. No one had ever kissed me like that. No one. Walking into the sea tonight might have felt like a homecoming, but in very many ways, so did this kiss.
And for all that I kept saying that I couldn’t afford to get more involved with this man than I already was, I couldn’t force myself to break away, either. I needed this man’s kiss, his taste, his closeness, almost as much as I had needed the sea earlier.
A sharp buzzing ripped through the silence, breaking our kiss, making me jump and my heart race. Trae swore and instantly turned off the flashlight, plunging us into darkness.
“What was that?” I said, my voice a strained whisper.
“The early warning system.” He moved quickly but silently across to the window. “Someone’s broken the beam.”
I peered over his shoulder. The night was dark and the only thing that seemed to be moving were the tree branches, tugged about by the sharpening breeze.
And yet . . .
Was that a darker shape near the gate? Was it a car, or just my overwrought imagination?
I squinted, but couldn’t make it out clearly enough. It was simply too far away.
“Could a cat or dog have set the alarm off?”
He shook his head. “I set it higher up the post so that wouldn’t happen.” He looked at me. “Gather all the food. We’re getting out of here.”
I spun around and walked back to the bench. After sweeping the food into several plastic bags, I grabbed the laptop and the discarded T-shirt.
“Okay, got everything.”
“I hid the car round the back of the property, near a broken part of the fence—”
“You really do believe in always being prepared, don’t you?”
“A good thief always has his escape routes planned.” He glanced at me, eyes bright and dangerous. “Take the path along the cliff top and follow it until you reach the fence line. The car is hidden in the trees a hundred or so yards from there.”
“And what will you be doing?”
“Following our trackers and ensuring they can’t follow us.”
“Via another accidental fire?”
His sudden grin was a fearsome thing. “No. I think we might have attracted enough attention with our stunt yesterday. Besides, it’s night. Go, Destiny.”
I went, slipping out the back door and into the stillness of the night. Though it wasn’t really still, not with the wind tugging at the bushes and whistling through the trees that surrounded the old house.
I kept to the deeper shadows, slipping around the building quickly and quietly. Once beyond the protection of the house, the wind grabbed at me, pushing me forward, seeming to hurry me along even as it slapped and rustled the plastic bags I was carrying.
But held within the fingers of the wind came the purr of an engine. No lights pierced the night, but the crunch of tires against the stone that lined the driveway was unmistakable. And it was getting closer.
Fear gave my feet wings. I practically flew across the open ground, barely watching where I was going, trusting to instinct and the surety of my big feet as my gaze roamed the darkness.
Movement caught my eye. Was that the shadow of a man slipping through the trees to my left?
I didn’t stop to look. Didn’t dare. It was probably Trae, anyway—air dragons could move with the speed of the wind when they wanted to.
The sudden sharpness of salt riding the breeze warned of the closeness of the cliff face. I looked forward, saw land give way to the blackness of night and the starry horizon, and swerved left, following what looked like a goat track. I hoped Trae did whatever it was he had to do in a hurry so we could just get out of here. The car at the gate might not be my pursuers—it might just be the cops doing their rounds, or something equally innocent—but instinct suggested that it probably was.
The wind suddenly gusted and in the sharpness of the air came the sudden sound of a footstep.
And it was close. Too close.
I swung around. Saw the looming shadow, the arms outstretched. The pungent smell of chloroform grew suddenly thick in the night, the scent coming from the cloth the man held in one hand. My skin burned at the very thought of letting it get near me.