Never Let Go (13 page)

In the midst of her joy he lifted his head and feathered kisses across her mouth. She caught his ragged moan and mingled her own with it. He arched over her in a last, splendid motion that drove the past away and let new beauty begin to heal them both.

Eight

He was half-awake and sweating. Past and present tangled in a vivid dream, confusing him. She was innocent. Hadn't he helped her prove that? Rucker frowned deeply in his near-sleep state. No, not this time. He'd helped her years ago, before their marriage.

In the dream he could see her plainly, her face wan, her shoulders drawn back in a desperate attempt to keep her pride.

"My father was, according to a great deal of evidence, a thief and a liar. Right before his death he was about to be indicted by a federal grand jury for embezzling, fraud, and money laundering involving twenty-five million dollars."

She took a deep breath. "And I was suspected of knowing all about his activities. And deliberately concealing them."

He tried to comfort her, to tell her the past didn't matter. Her deep torment bewildered him.

"I wasn't innocent," she explained bluntly, her face flushed with humiliation. "When investigators began to come to me on the side, asking questions, I lied like a good daughter. I knew my father was involved in something illegal. I tried to talk to him about it, but he kept assuring me that nothing was as it seemed. And I believed him. Ironic, that I thought he was so wonderful... and it was all a lie."

Her face paled as she spoke the words. Suddenly her head tilted back and she sank bonelessly toward the floor. Rucker caught her in his arms and carried her to his bed.

She looked up at him weakly but ignored his pleas to rest and be quiet. His stomach knotted as he studied the horror that clouded her delicate blue eyes.

"Rucker, the courts said that I aided a felon. I was sentenced to three years in prison." She seemed to be tearing the words from the center other heart. "I served one year."

Dizzy, spinning grief swept over him and his eyes stung with tears. He turned away and clutched the edge of the bed.

"Rucker?" she questioned anxiously.

"Give me a second." He drew deep breaths, fighting despair and fury.
How could anyone put this sensitive, honorable woman in prison?

"I've always been terrified that when I told you about prison . . . that you'd be ashamed of me." She caught a strangled sound in her throat. "Are you?"

"Ashamed?" Dear lord, she was worried that he'd reject her.
"No!"
Something broke inside him, destroying the restraint that had been hammered into him as a child. A man who couldn't cry for his woman's pain wasn't much of a man.

Tears slid slowly down his face as he bent over her and rested his head against her shoulder. "Damn the whole freakin' world for doin' that to you."

Dinah stroked his hair with worried hands. "I love you so much," she whispered, her voice hoarse with emotion. "Sssh. It was bearable. I went to California and stayed in a minimum security prison, a country club sort of place."

He knew that she was surprised and touched by his tears. She put her arms around him tightly and tried to make a joke. "I met so many interesting politicians and business executives."

When he got himself under control, he promised her that everything would be all right. A gossip-hungry television reporter had dogged her for years, intent on learning her secrets. Fear of exposure was the reason she'd dropped out of the Miss America pageant.

She was innocent. Rucker helped her clear her name and her father's. Her father had been framed.

But now . . . memories swam together in Rucker's mind and troubled him. He had to believe in her, as he had then. Trust her, his instincts urged.

But what would happen if she were guilty of espionage? Suppose her work with Valdivia—whatever her idealistic reasons—sent her to prison again?

This time she'd end up in a federal penitentiary, not some candy-land facility for the rich and powerful. Rucker gritted his teeth and twisted groggity, flinging an arm out in rough protest.

Dinah's soft, sleepy cry of pain stabbed through the fog of fear. Her hand rumbled against his face, then stroked soothingly. Rucker gave a shuddering sigh and blinked his eyes open. The thick, warm darkness wrapped them in a secure cocoon.

"Bad dream?" she murmured.

"Yeah."

"Tell me?"

He shivered despite the heat their bodies generated under the covers. "Can't remember." Rucker lied.

"Sssh. It's all right." She ran her hands over his shoulders and lightly scratched his back. "Bad dreams don't mean anything now that we're together again."

He could barely see her, but he felt the reassurance in her tender voice and pliant, sweet-scented body. She lay on her side facing him, her legs entwined with his. Her nipples touched his chest every time she inhaled, and the sensation electrified him. He realized that he had never felt more alive.

Lost in the unreal darkness and erotic sensations, Rucker relaxed into her embrace. He slipped his arms around her and was rewarded by a slow, loving kiss on the mouth. Cupping her tightly against his torso, he opened his lips for her gently searching tongue.

His pain was bittersweet. Who knew what tomorrow held? They might not get another night together. He could hardly bear the thought that there might never be another night like this one, when emotion and desire charged them both so completely.

The earthy scent of sex, the quick, light sound of her breathing, the way her mouth worshiped his in the darkness. She gave him this moment fully, and he let himself become lost in it. She
had
to be innocent.

"How I love you," he whispered hoarsely, his breath mingling with hers. "I've never stopped."

After a stunned moment, she made a ragged sound of happiness. "I never thought I'd hear you say that again. And I thought I'd die if you didn't."

"Don't die." Emotion turned his voice into a low rumble. "What would I do without you?"

She whispered across his lips. "I'll never let you find out."

He arched against her warm stomach, and she curled her fingers over the lean power of his shoulders. With movements that were slow and taut with restrained desire, they began to make love.

The sensual journey of his hand down her side was enough to make her writhe, and he watched breathlessly. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness she became an erotic mixture of shadows that surrounded him with desire.

The mattress was thick and yielding beneath them; it invited the wanton struggle for pleasure, the spreading of her legs and the lowering of his body between them.

Rucker thrust into her quickly and moaned at the swift answering contractions of her muscles. His single, powerful motion took her over the brink. She clasped his hips and rose under him.

Breathing heavily, he withdrew. Dinah protested with a low, keening sound. Rucker kissed her forehead and whispered gruffly, "I want it to last a long time. I'm too sensitive this way."

He lay down behind her and cupped her rump to his stomach and thighs. She purred low in her throat when she sensed his plan. Rucker pulled her top leg over his and slipped into the welcoming sheath he had sampled before.

"Now we can go slow," he murmured against her ear. He arched against her in a careful rhythm. Rucker brushed his hand over her belly and felt the muscles quiver.

"Sweetheart. Sweetheart, I can't ... go ... slow," she said with apology. She dipped her head and her body tossed against his like a willow caught in a storm.

With a desperate groan he grasped her hips and jerked them snuggly to his movements. His back bowed as he slammed against her and lost the last shred of control.

Rucker's breath shattered against her neck and his fingers dug Into her heated skin. drawing cries of delight from her. Their bodies relaxed together like two taut wires sagging when tension is suddenly removed.

She wound her fingers through his while he raised them to stroke one of her breasts. He cupped It protectively and rubbed his thumb over the milk-slicked nipple.

His contentment was almost palpable: her love a force that brought him peace. Without speaking another word they fell asleep again.

***

Dinah watched his brows arch in appreciation even though his eyes remained shut. Smiling tenderly, she bent over him and held the coffee cup closer to his nose. Experimentally she drew the cup to one side. After a second, he turned his head toward it. Dinah suppressed laughter and moved the cup in the opposite direction. Sniffing, he turned his head that way.

She pressed a hand to her mouth and sat back quickly before her silent chuckles made her slosh hot coffee on his face. His eyes opened groggily, and he squinted at her in the dawn light.

In the mornings his deep, sexy voice sounded like a freight train slowly coming to a stop. "You got three seconds ... to make me forget. . . that I'm awake. You better put . . . that damned coffee cup down . . . and get under the covers, woman."

She shook her head. "We have to move on."

Rucker raised up on his elbows and cursed boisterously as cold air hit his exposed chest and shoulders. Then he scanned her neatly braided hair, striped pullover, and jeans. "You're already dressed!"

"I thought it'd be easier this way." She put out a hand and touched his cheek. "It was incredibly tempting to stay in bed with you, but we have too much to do."

He sighed anxiously then nodded, thinking of the daughter he had yet to see. "If Lancaster was right, the road's not far from here."

"If we can just catch a ride, well be fine. Honey, I think you'll have to leave your shotgun behind. Who's going to give a ride to a pair of armed hitchhikers?"

"Damn. All right. What's for breakfast?"

"Cold biscuits and bologna.".

He groaned. "Now that makes me want to get out of bed. I'm cold. Where are my clean clothes? Why didn't you turn up the heat?"

Dinah eyed him drolly. "I'd forgotten how much you remind me of Oscar the Grouch in the morning."

He swiped the cup of coffee into one large hand and drew her to him for a long kiss. She put her arms around his naked back and clung to him. Slowly he rested his cheek on her hair.

A pensive silence dropped over them. Underneath the teasing they were both very worried about the day ahead.

***

"Roll up your jeans and show an ankle. That always works in the movies."

"I'm wearing white athletic socks and running shoes. The effect wouldn't be terribly sexy, Rucker."

"I could stick out my leg."

"We don't want to attract female bears."

They stood close together for shelter against the biting wind. Snow gusted off the sagging branches of the pine trees that lined the road on both sides. Around a distant curve came a van.

"I didn't win all those beauty pageants without good reason," Dinah muttered. She put on her best smile, stuck her thumb out jauntily, and pressed her other hand to her heart in a gesture of sincere supplication. To Rucker she instructed, "Try to look all-American."

"If I had my shotgun I could do a Rambo impression. We'd get a ride for sure."

The van whizzed past without slowing. Its wheels slung melted snow at them. Dinah stumbled back and felt Rucker's broad hand catch her elbow.

"Son of a ... that makes five times," he growled. "What happened to southern hospitality?"

Dinah patted his shoulder. "We better start walking, Rambo."

"Yo. How much further do we have to go? You told me yesterday, but I forgot."

"A little over an hour, if we had wheels."

"In feet time, that's two days."

She looked up at him worriedly. "I don't have two days. I have to start back south by tonight."

"We don't have two days. We have to start back south by tonight. Wherever you go, I go. Don't forget it."

Dinah nodded, smiling up at him. "I won't." An ugly sense of guilt curled around her rib cage, and she winced inwardly at the knowledge that she would have to sneak away from him somehow. She'd risk his fury before she'd risk his life.

As if reading her mind, he said in a warning drawl, "Dee."

She carefully formed a nonchalant expression. "What?"

"Promise me that you won't run when my back is turned. I'll never forgive you if you do."

Her breath stalled in her throat. The deadly intensity in his eyes and voice told her that he meant what he said. But of course he'd forgive her once he knew the truth about her situation—if she could prove it to him. She was banking on that desperate hope.

He wore no gloves, and his big, rawboned hands were chapped with the cold. She lifted them to her lips and kissed each palm tenderly, then looked up at him with all the sincerity she could muster. "I promise."

Slowly his mouth slid into a relieved smile and his eyes softened with apology for his tough words. "Let's start walkin'."

She trudged beside him down the road, her head bent and her hands curled under her poncho. It occurred to her that her body language practically shouted deception and guilt. Dinah snapped her head up and glanced at Rucker. He hadn't noticed, thankfully.

Dinah's heart began to patter raggedly. The new bonds they had formed last night were strong, but could they survive?

She had no time for brooding. They heard the whoosh of car tires coming up behind them. Dinah halted and watched as Rucker raised his hand to the driver of a paneled station wagon with darkly tinted windows.

The car continued past, drawing an icy gust of air behind it. "Aw, your mother kisses gorillas," Rucker called. "Ugly gorillas."

"You're very immature, but I adore you."

They smiled wearily at each other. The sound of rubber screeching on wet pavement made them look back at the station wagon. it slid to a stop. The driver began to back up, zigzagging across the lane in haste.

Dinah blanched. "If there's a great big guy with a bad temper behind the wheel I think you'd better explain that your mother kisses gorillas too."

"Let's move off the road," Rucker ordered. "This jackass may be drunk."

He tossed their bags into a ditch, then grabbed her arm. They sloshed through snowy weeds to a safe spot. Wide-eyed, Dinah peered into the station wagon as it careened to a stop in front of them. The driver crawled across the front seat and shoved the passenger door open. Kneeling in the doorway, she stared at Dinah and clasped both hands to her mouth in tearful disbelief.