Somewhere I'll Find You (26 page)

Of love.

Forever.

He watched her, his eyes never leaving her face, watching every nuance that told him of her desire, of when she was over the edge with pleasure and pain.

As the moonlight danced and roses scented the room, Jenny gave herself up to his wild passion, to his dark whispers of wicked delight.  Using every talent he had ever possessed, calling on experience from lovers long since forgotten, Erik drew her up, up, up, until she shattered into a million pieces.  There was a long, long silence between them before she spoke . . . before she could speak again.

“Erik?”

He pulled her up against his chest.

“Why . . .
?
”

“Hush.”

“But you . . .”

A husky laugh.  A lopsided grin that shattered her heart in the quiet moonlight.  “Sleep beauty.  There will be time.  A century of nights like this to come, I promise.”

“But you didn’t . . .”

He knew one way to silence her and he used it, pressing his lips to hers, his body hard, his fingers even surer now.  And when her pleasure came, she cried out his name in wonder.

She slept at last, curled against his chest.  Their bodies were blocked only by a thin sheet – and an ironclad code of honor that kept Erik Fletcher motionless even when his mind screamed for him to take her, pounding and hard, until they both discovered the taste of forever.

But he didn’t. 

“Forever,” he promised.

It was a promise, whisper
ed in the dark silver night.  And
if sheer will and human need could forge a bridge of time, than that promise would pass beyond the bounds of death itself.

* * * *

Sunlight fell through the window as Michael jolted awake. The morning sun made him think of Paige.  His body jolted with desire at just the
memory
of her.  But that feeling, like all the others, would have to be denied.  Over his long professional career, three rules had kept him alive.

Don’t let them see
you
sweat. Don’t let it get personal.  And when you leave, don’t ever look back.
 
Michael had already broke
n
two of those rules with Paige, and he didn’t even want to think about the third.

By mutual consent, Michael and Paige spent the day apart.

Paige searched the cottage from attic to cellar, looking for anything that could shed light on the life of Jenny Bowman.  It was left to Michael to clear away th
e debris from the night’s storm.  As a
favor
to Paige, when he was finished righting the worst of the damage done to the grounds, he also
spen
t
a gr
eat deal of time and care on her
Cord.  When
at last
he
returned
, dirty and windblown,
his expectant gaze was met with frustration.

Paige shook her head wearily.
  “It’s hopeless.  If there is anything hidden here, it
’
s hidden
too
well
for me to find
.”

“Forget it.  Go sit down and after I clean up, I’ll make us something to eat.”

“
I had little enough when you made us salmon.  I don’t think even you could come up with anything else.”  Pausing for a moment, she asked carefully.  “Are the roads clear?”

“Clear enough,” he replied, wiping sweat and grime-soaked hair away from his face.  “Let me wash up and
, on the subject of food,
I might just surprise you again.”

“Right,” she replied, watching him head up the stairs.

And again, he surprised her with his magic touch
at the stove
, serving a fine meal once more that brought them together in her homey kitchen.

When he leaned over to pass Paige her plate, she realized that Michael was standing close enough for her to smell the scent from his shower. A few drops of water clung to the neck of his herringbone shirt, while his damp skin
carried the scent
of lemon and cloves.  She found herself wanting to move closer and see if he felt as good as he smelled.

Catching a ragged breath at the unruly path
on which
her thoughts were taking her, she busied herself with her lunch.  “You didn’t tell me you could cook,” she said around a mouthful of food.

He looked at her, wondering when they had ever had the time for such mundane conversations.  With a shrug, he settled back in his chair.  “I’ve learned a few things in my travels.  My mother believed that boys should be able to keep up with girls.  I learned how to make a soufflé before I could ride a bicycle.
”  He
favor
ed her with a wry grin.
 
“
A most untraditional childhood.”

“She sounds wonderful.”

Michael heard the question in Paige’s voice.  “She died four years ago,” he said quietly.  “Swift and painlessly.  It was very hard on my father, for they were very much in love even after all those years.”  A muscle tensed in his jaw.  “My sister, Amanda, bore the wors
t
of it because I was . . . gone.”

“I’m sure that they understood if your work kept you away.”

“They might have understood, but I’m not sure that I did.  At least I got to see her before . . .” His voice drifted away, his finger running down the rim of his glass.  When he looked up, his voice was steady.  “And what about you, Paige O’Neal?  What secrets are you hiding behind that brash American exterior?”

“No
thing very exciting, I’m afraid,” she replied, smiling faintly.
 
“
My father was . . . in the English government.”

“Someone I might know?” he asked casually.

“No.
Just one of the nameless, thankless drones,” Paige said bitterly.  “My mother was American and I was born right here in California.  She died when I was ten and then it was
all
boarding schools and summer holidays with him.  When he was available
,
that is. 
Don’t misunderstand me Sean was a wonderful father. 
He taught
me
all the important things.”

“Oh?  Dare I ask?”

Paige gave him a challenging smile.  “How to palm a card. How to spot a counterfeit bill.  How to tell real diamonds from a fake.  It was all very important in his line of work, you see.”

“He was a government jeweler?”

Paige laughed bitterly.  “No, he was a jewel
thief
,
among other things. 
His choice of occupations nearly caused a permanent rift between them, but my mother had a stubborn streak, and she was the one who finally convinced him to ‘go straight’.
  If
, that is,
you can call government security going straight,” she added grimly.
  “When she died, he was at a complete loss.  He couldn’t stand being surrounded by the memory of her, so he shipped me off to boarding schools and relatives while he returned to England.  I summered there with him, like I said before, until he was sent on one ‘last mission’.”

“And you say that our story isn’t interesting?  Tell me more.”

“There isn’t much to tell.”  Not much that Paige knew
, at least.  There had been long months when he was in the Far East, but Sean never spoke of them
,
and when he returned, Paige knew not to ask.  It seemed to her that the tension would just leave his eyes and he would begin to laugh again when a call would come dragging him away.  Her voice hardened.  “No son of mine will ever have a life like that,” she said flatly.  “It destroys too many lives.  That’s assuming that I have a son, of course.”

Their eyes met.  Heat flared.  Paige cleared her throat and took a bite of the food she had been pushing around her plate.

“What happens if your son want
s
just that sort of job?”  Michael asked idly.  “Wouldn’t that be up to him?  Hypothetically
,
of course.”
  He chewed thoughtfully, awaiting her answer.

“No.” Her hands trembled when she lifted her glass of water.  “Not if I could help it.  I’ve seen too closely just what kind of pain that it brings.”

“I see.”

“Do you?  I doubt it.  Sean was .
. . gone before I was sixteen and I learned
to survive.”  Her voice wavered, growing stronger after a few deep breaths.  “Maybe we should talk about something else.”

A muscle flashed at Michael’s jaw.  “Perhaps we should.  What did you find today?”

“The short version?” she asked wryly
.  “Nothing.  The long version?  Dust and dirt and then a whole lot of nothing.”  Sighing, she ran her fingers through her hair.  “I’ve searched everywhere and found
no clues at all
.  If there is anything left in this house, I can’t find it.”

Frowning, Michael pushed his plate away, his brow creasing in thought.  “I’ll call someone to look into official records.  Marriage licenses, wills, that sort of thing.”

“Isn’t that a long shot?”
  Paige asked, taking a final bite of food she didn’t want.

“Do you have any better ideas?”  There was an inkling of irritation that she questioned him.  After all,
he
was the expert.  His anger faded, however, when he was distracted by the sight of her chewing her full lower lip.
  He waited, and watched.

“If Erik and Jenny were lovers,” she began quietly, “wouldn’t it be best to spend time looking more closely into his personal life?  According to my research, he was close to thirty when he did
Robin Hood
so some of his old friends might still be around.  Magazines devoted to the comings and goings of celebrities were in fashion even back then.”

“You’re right, of course.  Actually, I have an aunt who has trunks filled with those sorts of things.  She’s an old darling but
still
sharp as a tack.  I’ll have to put her on it.”  As he grinned, she was reminded of just how handsome he was.

Laughing softly, he bent forward, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek.  His touch froze Paige, her eyes becoming wide and dazed.  And Michael knew why.  Years of experience had taught him to recognize that arrested look – a look that slammed his pulse with racing desire.