His lips found hers, stifling whatever else she might have said.They were cool and wet and softened upon impact, molding themselves to her mouth with tender persistence.
Casey sighed and when his arms encircled her, she leaned into his embrace.His hands were moving up and down her arms, across her shoulders, upon her hips.When he discovered she wore nothing beneath his shirt but herself, she felt him pause.His voice came out of the silence, little more than a whisper, but what he said made her blush in the dark.
Her hesitation was brief.There was nothing he could ask that would shame her.There was nothing she wouldn’t do with or for this man who called her wife.She pulled the wet T-shirt over her head and dropped it on the floor.Her hands moved to his waist, then beneath the wet denim covering the straining thrust of his manhood.
When she took him in her hands, he groaned.When she knelt, she heard him take a deep breath.And she knew for the rest of her life, the sound of rain on a roof would bring back the memory of what she had done in the dark to bring Ryder Justice to his knees.
* * *
Joshua came into the kitchen.“Found this in the gardener’s shed this morning.”
Casey looked up from the kitchen table.Pink tinged her cheeks, but her expression remained calm.
Ryder glanced at Casey, then looked away.Even after the onslaught of emotions they’d shared last night, he’d been unable to explain what had sent him into the storm.
“It looks like one of my T-shirts,” Ryder said.“I know I left one in the garage, butIdidn’t leave one in the shed.”
Casey sighed.He hadn’t lied.Not really.She was the one who left the shirt.Not him.
Joshua shrugged.“I think it will clean up all right.It’s not torn, just wet and muddy.”
“Thanks,” Ryder said, and returned to the paper he’d been reading.
Tilly stared at the couple sitting side by side at her kitchen table.Everything seemed the same—except her instincts told her it wasn’t.
“Is there something you’d be wanting to talk about?”she asked.
Ryder and Casey looked up, first at her, then at each other, before shaking their heads.Casey smiled.“No, ma’am.”
Tilly glared.“I didn’t get to be fifty-nine years old by being a fool.”She banged a pot on the stove to accentuate her claim.“I know when something’s not right.Did you two have a fight?’Cause if you did, I’m telling you now, the best way to end it is talk it all out.”She pointed a spoon at Joshua.“Tell them Josh!Tell them I know what I’m talking about.”
Joshua rolled his eyes, thankful he was on the far side of the room from that spoon.“My Tilly knows what she’s talking about.She always does.If you don’t believe me, then ask her.”
Ryder grinned behind his paper as Tilly lit into Joshua for making jest of her claims.It was just as well.It changed the subject, which was fine with him.
He glanced at Casey.Worry was there on her face.He’d have to be a fool not to see it.But he’d give her credit.She hadn’t asked a single question.She’d just been there, giving herself to soothe his pain.
He glanced at her face—at her mouth—at her hands.Dear Lord, but she had soothed much more than his pain.Impulsively, he leaned over, slid his hand at the back of her head and pulled her forward.Their mouths met.More than slightly surprised, she parted her lips.His were hard and unyielding, demanding that she remember what they were, what they shared.
She gave herself up to the kiss and felt more pain than passion behind the embrace.One day.One day he would talk.Until then, she would have to be satisfied with waiting for his answers—or with what she learned on her own.The private investigator she’d hired was due back on Monday with a final report.Surely she would have some sort of answer by then.Even if it didn’t come from Ryder, she had a right to know.
CHAPTER 13
Last night’s rain had washed everything clean.Lash took his morning cup of coffee out onto the veranda and gazed across the yard into the trees beyond.Although it wasn’t visible from where he stood, he could hear the water rushing through the creek below.He smiled to himself and took a slow, careful sip of the hot brew, careful not to burn his lips.
It was all falling into place.The kidnapping of Delaney Ruban’s heir was a brilliant plan.He knew exactly how it was going to happen—who was going to do the deed—even the amount of ransom he was going to ask for the safe return of Ryder Justice’s wife.
The ideal location in which she would be hidden had all but fallen into his lap.An aging client had been admitted to a nursing home via letter and phone by a distant cousin.The law offices of Marlow Incorporated had been given power of attorney to see to her monetary needs, as well as prepare for the impending funeral that was bound to occur.
Lash had done as the family had asked.Fostoria Biggers was now residing in the second room on the right at the Natchez Home for the Aged.Fostoria’s money was in the bank, but Lash Marlow’s name was on the signature card of her account.Her home out in the country was to be put on the market, and it would be—as soon as he no longer had need of it, which would be right after the Rubans coughed up three million dollars for Casey’s safe return.
Friday he’d closed his office and gone to Natchez.The two men he’d hired with five hundred dollars he’d borrowed from Fostoria Biggers’s account had come into town last night and were in a motel waiting for his call.The five hundred dollars was just a down payment on what he’d promised them when Casey’s abduction was completed.
He took another sip of his coffee as he came down from the steps.He laughed to himself, and the sound caused a pair of white egrets roosting in an overhead tree to take flight.Fifty thousand dollars.Last month he couldn’t have come up with fifty dollars, and now he had promised Bernie Pike and Skeet Wilson fifty thousand.And, compared to what he would have in his pocket before the week was over, it was a pittance.
The air was rich with the scent of bougainvillea that grew wild within the skeletal arms of a long-dead oak.The grass was still wet from last night’s rain and by the time he reached the ivy-covered gazebo, the hems of his slacks were damp.
He stepped inside, then set down his cup and looked around.For the first time in more years than he cared to count, he could see light at the end of his tunnel of financial woes.It wouldn’t be long before he could begin the repairs on Graystone and he could hardly wait.Even the gazebo was long overdue for a face-lift.And while it would have to wait just a little bit longer, there was one thing he could do.
