The tears that had stung her eyes now trekked down her cheeks unchecked. “I just wanted to hear their voices…I just…I feel so all alone.”
He took her by the shoulders and pulled her to herfeet, then held her against his still damp chest. “You aren’t alone. I’m here.”
His words, softly spoken, combined with the strength of his arms around her back, caused sobs to erupt from deep within her. She leaned into him, needing the warmth of the human connection to battle the chill that had taken residence in her body from the moment she’d realized her memories were gone.
She mourned now the loss of those memories, cried from fear and frustration, ached with the thought that she might never remember Brook’s father, might never remember love.
Coiling her arms around Hank’s neck, she gave in to the sobs, letting them overtake her as she leaned weakly into his strength.
His hands rubbed up and down her back as he murmured softly, attempting to comfort her. Within minutes her sobs had ceased and she knew she should pull away from him, step out of his warm embrace. But she lingered, reluctant to leave the protective circle of his arms.
As her tears ceased, she became aware of other sensations. His skin smelled good, so clean and fresh. His chest beneath her cheek was smooth skin over hard muscle. Velvet-covered steel.
Fear subsided, her loneliness fell away as she realized how intimately they were pressed together. His bare legs against hers, nothing but his towel and her shirt separating them from each other.
His hands no longer caressed her back in an effort to comfort, but rather languidly worked up and down, evoking fire where they touched. He no longer whisperedgentle, comforting words in her ear; his breathing had quickened, just as her own had.
She raised her head to look at him and gasped as she saw the fire in his eyes creating a flame that ignited deep within her.
“Colette,” he murmured, then his lips claimed hers in a fiery kiss that stole her breath and banished any rational thoughts.
She tightened her arms around his neck, rising up on tiptoe to more fully experience the depth of his kiss. The silken strands of his hair curled around her fingers, beckoning her to bury her fingers in their richness.
Shivers of delight danced up her spine as his tongue deepened the kiss, touching first the edge of her teeth, then swirling deeper.
All thoughts of danger and uncertainty faded beneath the onslaught of his kiss. Fear fell away as desire swelled, banishing everything else from her mind except the pleasurable sensations soaring through her.
She gasped as his hands moved up beneath her shirt, stroking the bare skin of her back as his mouth left hers and traveled down the line of her jaw. Her gasp transformed into a moan as his hands cupped her buttocks, pulling her solidly against him, letting her know the extent of his arousal.
This is madness!her mind screamed. But her body begged for more, wanting the insanity of this passion to last forever. She was lost in his heat and wanted to remain lost until the ache that was building inside her was sated.
She frowned as she heard a noise rising above thesound of their ragged breathing, louder than the beating of their hearts. A baby. Brook.
Brook’s cry sliced through her passion-induced haze and Colette stepped away from Hank, grateful that he didn’t try to hold on to her. “I’m sorry…that was foolish…” Colette’s face burned.
“Probably a reaction of stress,” he said, and she flashed him a grateful look.
“Yes, I’m sure that’s it.”
“You’d better take care of the kid.”
Irritation swept through Colette, a welcomed diversion from other, more frightening emotions. “She has a name. Her name is Brook.”
“Whatever.” He turned and disappeared back into the bathroom.
Colette sank down next to Brook, who fussed and sputtered halfhearted cries, on the bed. She was probably wet, Colette thought. As she changed the baby’s diaper, she thought of those moments in Hank’s arms.
How easily he’d brought her to the brink of submission. How masterful his caresses, his kisses had been to evoke such a violent response in her.
Had Brook not cried, they would have made love. There was no doubt in Colette’s mind. He would have taken her, and she would have willingly succumbed. With a few mind-numbing kisses, he’d managed to banish all thoughts of Brook’s father from her mind. What kind of a woman was she? To respond so easily to a man who’d kidnapped her and intended to take her to a trial that would put the rest of her life at risk?
After changing Brook, Colette pulled down the bedspread and got into bed, confused and disturbed by her quicksilver response to Hank. She cuddledBrook close against her. “Don’t worry,” she whispered to the little girl. “I won’t forget that someplace out there is your daddy. We’ll find him and everything will be all right.”
She tensed as Hank came out of the bathroom, this time clad in a worn pair of sweatpants. Again she was struck by his physique. Why couldn’t he have a pot belly and sunken chest? She turned over, presenting him her back.
* * *
HANK SHUT OFFthe light, then got into the remaining bed. Through the windows, pale light seeped in around the curtains, making Colette and the baby visible as his eyes adjusted to the semidarkness.
