She shook her head. “Just…if I ever ask, give me the same in return.”
“Skylar—”
“I swear, I believe what you say. Believe me in return.”
He didn’t reply. It didn’t matter at the moment. He carried her to the bed, laid her atop it on her stomach. He kissed theentire length of her back, her nape…each little bone, the small of her back, her buttocks, the backs of her knees, of her thighs…
The clean sheets were cool beneath her. The feel of his flesh was fire. The touch of his lips a simmer that brought the blood racing throughout her body. Firelight crackled, the night air was sweet. She was drowning in sensation, sensual comfort…desire.
The firelight flickered. She came atop him, glowing almost as copper as he in the low-burning light.
He stroked her cheek, her collarbone, the valley of her breasts.
“I just have to find a way to be thanked more often,” he murmured.
She smiled. His fingers threaded through the hair at her nape, and she rolled with him. It was their last night in civilization. A reprieve. She allowed the lure of sensation to sweep her into the sweetness of the night.
Morning always came too soon.
Senator Brad Dillmansat in his chair before the fire, staring at the flames. Night had come, but he wanted no other fight within the room. A blanket lay over his legs. He was warm and comfortable. And waiting.
Sabrina had been out, which meant something was going on.
They were sisters, but they were as different as night and day. Skylar could never control her temper. Sabrina could hide her every thought from the world. She could play any role asked of her, and at the moment, she was playing the role of dutiful daughter. At first, Sabrina had obviously been afraid that he’d call the police, report Skylar. Perhaps even have Pinkertons hunt her down. But now…
Now, she was simply…dutiful.
And waiting. He was damned well aware of it.
He shook his head. Fool girls, they could plot, and they could plan, and they could even run. But they couldn’t run far enough or fast enough.
He heard the door closing downstairs. Very quietly. Sabrina was going out again.
He quickly rolled his wheelchair to the window and saw that Sabrina was indeed hurrying from the house. Furtively, of course. He didn’t allow her to go out alone after dark.
But he certainly intended to let her go this time.
He spun his chair around and rolled quickly down the hallway to Sabrina’s room. He quickly looked over his shoulder. She might well suspect that he would come here, even though she had been very careful not to make him suspicious.
Skylar had always proven to be trouble. He should have gotten rid of her when she was a child. The idea of killing a child had never disturbed him. General Sherman himself had said it best in reference to the Indian problem when the soldiers killed little ones by accident or design—nits make lice. However, with all the accusations she had thrown his way, it had always seemed best to appear the martyred stepfather. Now she had somehow made good an escape. He’d had his aides go through every train, ship, and stage schedule available, and they had found no trace of a Connor traveling, or even of a single female. He didn’t know what she had managed, but one thing was certain—she would send for Sabrina. And when Sabrina went to her…
Well, now she wasn’t a child anymore. But she still hadn’t discovered what she was up against.
He’d find her.
And when he did…
She’d be easier to kill than her honorable damned father.
Where to look…
He smiled suddenly. High. If she’d had correspondence, she would have hidden it high. Where a crippled man couldn’t find it.
He started to laugh.
Thirty minutes later, he was making his own plans for travel.
And though it was late, he was a senator. He had no difficulty summoning an aide and explaining that it was necessary his telegram get out that night. He was a part of the government of the United States, a lawmaker. If there was anything he could do to help his country in the current Sioux situation, he naturally had to become involved, no matter what personal dangers it might entail.
