Time Thieves (23 page)

He grabbed both her hands in one of his and secured them tightly in his grasp.

She twisted beneath him then gasped, her shock turning to a groan as his fingers speared through the curls at the juncture of her thighs. He stroked her again, opening her, tormenting her. Her legs shifted restlessly but with his leg once again across hers, she couldn’t move far.

He slid one finger inside. She whimpered.

He slid two inside. She groaned.

And bucked against his hand.

“Ward,” she cried.

He leaned down to kiss her, his lips hot, mobile, his passion needy. But he wouldn’t let her go.

Just when she didn’t think she could stand any more, he pulled his hand away and settled himself between her thighs.

She lifted her hips and he plunged deep.

She cried out in joy and need.

He withdrew slightly, repositioned himself, held her hips, and plunged in again. This time he didn’t stop; he kept up the rhythm, driving her straight to the edge of the precipice. She hung there, breathless in her frustration, until he lifted her leg over his arm and drove deep into the heart of her.

She shrieked as her world came apart. His movements deepened as he rode her right through the climax rippling through her. She shuddered, her mind a kaleidoscope of sensation, and could only hang on for the ride.

He lowered her leg, grabbed her hips and ground against her. She groaned, buffeted from wave upon wave of feeling as the second crest built. He grabbed her hips and plunged in once more, then eased out as his body shuddered and quaked with his release.

And sent her spinning off again.

Finally, he collapsed on the bed beside her, his breathing hard, his face red, his voice cracking as he whispered, “I missed you so much.”

Tears in her eyes, she curled herself around him, overwhelmed by emotion and that one feeling she couldn’t quite define. And realized what that emotion was – the sense of rightness. Of being where she belonged. She whispered, “And now I’ve come home.”

Wrapped up tight in his embrace, she fell asleep.

*

Ward, his breath
still shaky, his lungs still gasping to return to a regular rhythm, hugged Sari close. His heart would take longer to recover.

He’d been devastated when she’d left. It had been hard enough when her father disappeared; he’d gone looking with her for days back then. They’d only been kids, but they’d checked every place within blocks and had searched her house as much as they were allowed. Her mother hadn’t been much help. She’d been locked down, almost angry back then. He hadn’t understood as a child. He did now.

For Sari though, her world had collapsed.

That he could imagine, but it wasn’t until her mother packed them up and took off that he’d really understood.

Ward had tried to pull his world back together again, and as a kid it had been easier to bury himself in everyday life, but something had always been missing.

Sari.

Now fifteen years later, she was back where she belonged.

In his life, in his arms, in his bed. In his heart.

He’d never been happier.

S
ari yawned and
rolled over. She stretched out a long leg and touched something. She froze, peeked under her lashes. Ward slept beside her. Slow and relaxed, his bare chest moving gently. She lifted her head and checked her watch. Six in the morning. Too early to get up. She was still tired herself. She curled up close to Ward. Unconsciously, he reached out and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, tugging her against his chest as he’d done dozens of times in the night. She smiled and relaxed in his embrace. Just where she wanted to be. Memories of their lovemaking flickered through her tired brain. She’d lost count of how many times they’d made love; it had seemed endless. Her body ached in places she’d long forgotten about.

It was so good to be here at this stage of her life. To have him back in it. She didn’t think she’d ever let him go. She snuggled in closer, loving being in his arms. He was so protective – even in sleep. Just as she was drifting off again, she heard a weird sound.

Not worried, she lay there and tried to identify it. It came again. She frowned. With no pets, it could only be the wind. The morning light was bright enough to see it was going to be a clear day here, but she couldn’t get a sense of any movement outside. Gusts in Victoria could get downright vicious. And this so didn’t sound like wind.

A second muffled bang sounded through the wall. This time, it was followed by an odd shuffling sound. Definitely not wind. Ward’s warm body stiffened under her cheek. His heartbeat, slow and steady, sped up. The arm around her shoulder tightened ever so slightly.

“Shh,” he murmured against her hair.

Good. He’d heard it too.

She nodded once and rolled back to her pillow. He threw back the covers and sat up. It was the first she’d seen him in the buff. Damn, the man had muscles. Not a cut workout body like the guys who haunted the gym, but like a man used to a physical lifestyle. He came by it naturally. Ward reached for his boxer briefs; smooth, curve-hugging cotton that highlighted muscular cheeks and rock hard thighs. She sighed, wishing she could pull him back down beside her.

He turned back to look at her as he tugged his jeans up and over his hips, pulling up the zipper and closing the snap. He pulled his t-shirt over his head. Lifting a finger, he motioned for her to be quiet. He slipped over to the door, and that was when she finally realized what he was doing.

“Wait,” she hissed. “Don’t leave me here.” She slipped out of bed, then scrambled into jeans and stepped into her shoes, choosing sandals over slippers. She raced over to him, still pulling on her t-shirt.

He shook his head and glared at her. She glared back. “I don’t want to be separated. If anything happens to you, I won’t know what happened.”

He closed his eyes. “I want you to stay hidden. Safe.”

“If someone is here, they are going to expect to see me. If I’m not there with you, they will come looking anyway.” She had to make him understand. “Please. I don’t want to be alone.”

“Stay behind me.”

He opened the bedroom door, the quiet snick unbelievably loud in the silence. He pulled it open and stuck his head out. He walked to the spare bedroom, the door open, and looked inside. “Nothing there.”

“Then they have to be on the other side or…”

“Or?”

“The attic.”

He stilled and looked at her. “Can we get there from here?”

She motioned to the closet. “Only through the passageway.”

“No.” He discarded that idea. “Too noisy.”

“Exactly. That’s probably what we’re hearing as well. Anyone coming from there can’t be silent either.”

He studied her face for a long moment. Then he glanced at the closet.

“No,” she whispered. “There’s no point in going that route if we don’t know where they are.”

He frowned, obviously not wanting to let go of the idea. “It’s a great way to sneak up on someone though.”

She winced. “Yeah, thanks for that.”

“Come on.” He tucked her up behind him and slipped out to the hallway. Sari took a deep breath and followed. They checked out the bathroom then crept down the staircase to the first landing. Still, no other sounds anywhere. Could the intruder have left?

They crept down toward the kitchen, silent and vigilant. Sari kept behind him. In the kitchen, they gave the room a quick search. Nothing had been disturbed. She waited to see if he planned to move across the hallway and up the other staircase or down toward the front of the house and the rest of the rooms. He led the way through the living room then sitting room and finally down toward her shop. The morning sun was high enough to give the rooms enough light to see by. There appeared to be no one here. Anywhere.

Less concerned now, Sari reached for the shop door ahead of him. Just as her fingers were about to connect, her hand was grabbed and held. “Wait.” He nodded through the glass door. On the other side, she could see a shadow moving.

“Shit,” she whispered under her breath. “Now what?”

“I’m going in.”

Ward pulled out his gun. The gun she hadn’t realized he had tucked into his back. He motioned her back.

“It’s locked. I have to unlock it.”

He glared at her. “If it’s locked, how did this guy get in there?”

She didn’t think it was a good time to bring up her parallel universe theory. Ward didn’t look like he wanted to hear about bad guys coming though her attic. He reached for the door and turned it. His hand stopped. He shot her a look of frustration.

She grinned and shrugged. Stretching up high to the frame above the door, she pulled down a spare key and, keeping free of the window, she unlocked the door.

Snick
.

The sound made her cringe. Ward motioned her out of the way. She flattened against the wall, holding her breath. Ward crouched low, shoved the door open wide, and ran inside.

“Stop. Police!”

Silence.

Then a high-pitched squeal sounded. Jesus. Sari shuddered. Was that even human? She waited a long moment before venturing to look around the corner. When she did, she realized that whatever was in there wasn’t bothering Ward. He was running a hand through his hair and staring down at whatever it was on the floor, hidden behind her workbench.

“Ward?”

He glanced over at her, but there was no smile on his face. “Come here, please.”

Uh-oh. That tone of voice didn’t mean anything good. She flicked on the light switch, noticing as she walked toward him that the security light on the front hall panel flashed red, signaling that all was well. So what the hell had Ward found?

She gave him an inquiring look. “What’s the problem?”

Grim faced, he motioned toward the floor. And damn – there sat huddled in a ball was a severely scrawny old man.

Dazed, she stood and stared. “Again?”

“How?”

Ward pointed to the side at something she hadn’t noticed at first. “The attic steps were down.”

“Oh shit.”

They stared at each other in wordless wonder.

“And how am I going to explain this to my partner?” Ward demanded. “How could anyone come from your attic when we’ve been here all night?”

“We didn’t check out the attic when we got home. He could have been hiding in there then,” she suggested, approaching the terrified man in front of her.

“And the locked door?”

She shrugged. “Ask Agatha Christie. She loved these types of mysteries.”

“Oh great. That’s helpful.” He tucked the gun in the back of his pants and bent down to the man. “Hello? Are you okay?”

No response. Sari crouched down and put a hand on the man’s leg. With a small cry, he pulled back into a tighter ball. Sari patted his shoulder. Aged enough to have silvery hair and small enough to fit under her desk, she didn’t know what to do.

“Maybe call for an ambulance. Give him a bed beside Madge,” she suggested.

The silvery head shot up. “Madge?” Blue eyes stared up at the two of them; hope and desperation clung to the gaze. “Do you know Madge?”

“Madge showed up in my house, similar to the way you just have. She wasn’t in very good shape. She’s in the hospital now and doing a little better, but she’s barely talking. Do you know her?” Sari asked gently.

When no answer was immediately forthcoming, Ward leaned forward to ask, “Do you know Madge?”

The old man nodded. “She’s my aunt. I have to bring her back.”

Sari didn’t know what to say. This guy was a senior already, putting Madge into a whole new age category. “Bring her back?” Sari asked. “Bring her back where?”

“Home. I have to. They’ll kill me if I don’t.” The old man’s voice rose at the end, panic making him reach out and grab Sari’s t-shirt. “Please. Help me.”

“Where are you from?”

He looked around in confusion. “Here?”

Ward and Sari stared at each other. She could see the bewilderment in Ward’s gaze mirrored in her own. Sari turned back to the shivering man. She studied him. Small and fine boned, he was a similar size and shape to Madge. Dressed in pants and a shirt with socks barely covering his bony feet, she realized he could be anywhere from fifty to ninety. Ageless looking. The same as Madge. “What’s your name?”