Wolf Island (19 page)

Why
couldn’t Devlin see the good that was inside him and the many good deeds he had
done in his life? Good deeds that had nothing to do with his father. “When you
caught me snooping in your office the first night I was on the island, some of
the papers had letterhead with a company called Morgan Research and Development
on it.

“I
own the company.”

She
nodded. “I assumed as much. What sort of --” Before she could complete her
sentence, he placed two fingers over her lips silencing her speech.

“No
more questions tonight. Okay?”

They
walked farther down the beach with only the sound of their feet swishing
through the water, the quiet whisper of a salty breeze. Abby heard the owl
again and watched it soar over the tops of the hemlock trees before
disappearing into the darkness.

“Who
are you, Abby?” Devlin broke the silence and drew her attention away from the
woods.

His
gentle question brought the words rushing into her throat and onto her tongue
like the evening tide beginning to build at their feet. How could any woman
refuse to tell him everything when the question held such kindness? “I’m a
teacher from England who lives a simple, uncomplicated life. At least until
Miranda disappeared and I came here to find her. Now things have been happening
so fast I can barely keep up.”

She
stopped and looked at him. She knew his eyes were green but couldn’t really see
their brilliant color in the dim light. Instead of seeing with her eyes, she
saw with her heart. His were eyes she knew she wanted to look into for the rest
of her life. But would Devlin’s past continue to keep them apart? Was there
nothing she could do to break down the barriers of mistrust that stood between
them?

After
a moment, a smile creased his sensual lips. “What subjects do you teach at
school?”

“Literature
and art history.”

He
rubbed her palm with the pad of his thumb. Yearning quickened her pulse. Devlin
stopped and moved closer to her until his body heat swirled over her skin,
heating her from the top of her head down to her toes. He lifted her hand and
bit into the soft pad of flesh at the base of her thumb. Abby sucked in a
startled breath. “I bet you’re a wonderful teacher.”

“Why
do you say that?” For some reason, she just had to know.

Devlin
grazed the tips of his fingers over her neck. “Because you’re bright and
intuitive. I’ve seen the expression on your face and in your eyes when the
wheels are turning in that clever brain of yours.”

Her
first reaction was to downplay his compliment, but it was time she started
speaking up for herself and voicing her opinion, no matter how conceited it may
sound. “Thank you, Dev. I always thought I had a gift for teaching.”

He
leaned over and blew softly into her ear, then tugged on her earlobe with his
teeth. Her knees nearly buckled. Should she resist and pull away from the
erotic heat that suffused her breasts and between her legs? No, here was her
chance to explore her sexuality.

And
why not? A beach with a handsome man and a moon on the rise was the perfect
setting. Still unsure, but excited at the prospect, Abby wrapped her arm around
Devlin’s waist and stepped in closer to him so that her breasts, stomach, and
thighs touched him. She lifted her chin and stared into his eyes. To her
delight, he trailed kisses over her cheek. She must be doing something right,
after all.

“What
about your parents?” His voice was a tender whisper.

She
gasped when he nibbled the underside of her jaw. “I -- I, that is to say,
my parents were -- oh, that feels good.” When he licked her neck, tasting
her skin, a soft haze settled over her brain.

That
was the first time she’d ever told a man she liked what he was doing to her.
She’d always let the man take the lead while she followed. Abby felt a little
giddy with her newfound sexual boldness. “My father walked away when we were
small. He couldn’t get a job, and the added burden of supporting a family was
too much for him, I suppose. At least, that’s what I’ve always thought.”

It was easier than believing he didn’t love us.

“We
lost Mum to cancer a few months ago. It’s been Miranda and me against the world
for as long as I can remember, even when Mum was alive. She had a drinking
problem ... among other things.”

Devlin
lifted his head and looked at her, but it was too dark to read his expression.
He held her head gently between his big hands, then kissed her lightly,
lovingly, on the eyelids. “I’m sorry.”

Those
softly murmured words from his lips meant more to her at that moment than all
of the flowers, cards, and letters of condolence that she’d received at the
time of her mother’s death. His words somehow soothed her grief and loneliness.

“Was
she ill a long time?”

She
had never talked about it with anyone, not even Miranda. She held all her
feelings inside. There were a few friends who wanted to hear how she felt or
who lent a shoulder for her to cry on, but she’d always been the one to carry
the burden, to shoulder the responsibility.

She
never thought that anything could be handled properly by anyone except herself.
After all, she had practically raised Miranda because her mother worked all the
time, when she wasn’t drinking or running around with a variety of different
men. But now, here was a man with big shoulders, a man asking her to tell him
her feelings. How could she say no? “Yes. Toward the end, she -- she
remembered Miranda, but she didn’t remember me. That was the hardest part of
all.”

A
burden, a sorrow so deep she thought it would never lessen, lifted at her
confession. All it had taken was sharing her hurt with Devlin. A strong man, a
fair man. A man who was wise, of that she had no doubt. He had become important
to her, and she desperately needed to trust in his ability to comfort her, to
soothe her. “Thank you, Dev.”

He
kissed her tenderly on the mouth. “For what?”

She
smiled, her heart much lighter, her soul freer. “I’ve never told anyone about
what happened with my mother. Her not remembering me, I mean. Not even
Miranda.”

He
started to kiss her again, and as much as she wanted him to, she turned her
face away. “Dev, I want to know where my sister is. If I could just talk to
her, I --”

Devlin
touched the side of her cheek and shifted her face back to his. “Abby, trust
me.” His soft voice and the way he looked deep into her eyes urged her to
believe him. “Miranda is okay. You’ll be able to go to her soon ... I
promise.”

He
gathered her close. “I don’t know how you’ve managed to get to me, but you have.”
His breath felt warm and soft against her hair. “You’re such a slight little
thing, and I’m so big and tall. I’m always afraid every time I touch you that I
might hurt you.” He pulled out of her arms and brushed a lock of hair from her
eyes. “Abby, there are things about me you don’t know, things you can never
know.”

“But
Dev, I’ve been wanting to --”

“No,
no more talk tonight. I need to kiss you, be with you.” He gathered her to him again,
laid his mouth over hers, and slowly blew her mind with his kisses. A thick
white fog rolled onto the beach and surrounded them. The mist felt comforting
somehow, as it swirled in the air and blended with the sound of the increasing
tide. Or was it the sound of passion and her needs climbing, grasping to the
forefront? All she felt was Devlin. All she wanted was Devlin, his mouth, his
hands, his arms. She wanted to feel him move inside her.

Amidst
the roar of her own desire in her ears, she heard the tinkling of chimes, very
faint but there nonetheless. She and Dev broke apart at the same time. They
turned and looked around at the undulating fog. Abby gripped Devlin’s arms, and
he pulled her close to him.

“Don’t
be afraid,” he whispered next to her ear. “I’ll protect you.”

His
words brought a lump to her throat, and happiness swelled in her chest. She
closed her eyes to stop the tears of joy from building. For the first time in
her life, she felt as though she no longer stood alone against the
world -- now someone stood beside her. The plume of silver mist continued
to surround them, while the soft tinkle of chimes faded into the night.

Abby
touched Devlin’s face and gazed up into his eyes. “I’m not afraid. I don’t know
why, exactly, but I’m not. Corinne told me the story about Alice and her lover.
She said that Alice spent weeks after his boat was lost, shining her light and
ringing the chimes, trying to find him.”

Devlin
caressed her cheek and kissed her lightly beneath her eyes. “Yes, she did.”

Abby
pulled back, not believing what she was about to say. “Do you think it could be
possible that the light and the chimes really are Alice still looking for her
lost lover?”

Devlin
smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “I’m not sure.”

He
pulled Abby into his arms and rested his chin on top of her head. She’d never
felt so safe in her life. She settled against Devlin’s chest and listened to
the steady thud of his heart beneath her ear.

She
wanted to stay here forever with his arms around her and feel the warmth of his
body. But everything inside her, down to the center of her soul, felt that the
laughter she’d heard at the castle and the sound of the chimes connected to
Devlin and his past.

Abby
pulled out of his arms. “Why did you keep the clipping about Alice’s murder?”
She already knew the answer but hoped he would open his heart and tell her.

Devlin
tried distracting her by nibbling on her neck. “Let’s not talk about that now.”

She
longed to give in to his husky, sensual voice, but she couldn’t. She stepped
back to put a little distance between them. “I think we need to. Tell me, Dev.
Please.”

He
frowned. “I felt responsible.” There was a gentle softness in his voice.

Abby
raised her hand and touched his face. “For what?”

Devlin’s
body stiffened, and his expression grew still and somber. “For Victor coming
back to the island and killing Alice.”

Abby
sighed and tilted her head to the side. “You aren’t responsible for Victor’s
actions.”

His
face turned ashen, and pain filled his eyes. “He’s a monster, and I’m his son.
I bear some responsibility for what happened.”

She
inhaled a quick, calming breath and exhaled. “No, you don’t.” Unable to bear
the anguish in Devlin’s eyes a moment longer, Abby glanced around her. The fog grew
denser. The vaporous cloud obscured the forest from her view, but Devlin was
with her.

No
one could harm her as long as he stood at her side. She saw only him. Nothing
else. Abby felt the cool ocean waves wash over her feet and listened to the
water hiss as it seeped into the sand. The sound soothed her.

Being
alone on the beach with Devlin made her feel as if they were the only two
people in the world. Abby laid her palms on Devlin’s chest and looked up into
his eyes. “Make love to me.”

Chapter Ten

Devlin
gazed into Abby’s eyes and saw the reflection of her heart. Should he believe?
Dare he believe that she wanted him, cared for him? Helpless with desire, he
tunneled his fingers through her hair.

The
cover of fog began to dissipate, allowing the rays of the rising moon to shine
through. He tilted her head to catch the light. A wave of desperation gripped
him. He drank in the beauty of her face, needing to hold her and make her his
in the most elemental way.

His
heart burned with fear that he might lose control and harm her. His skin felt
tight and hot and needy. Waves continued to wash over their feet and caress
their ankles. A rather large one splashed against their legs, and the ensuing
spray wet their clothes, but neither seemed to notice.

“Please,
Devlin.” Abby’s soft plea nearly undid him.

He
tried to fight against the current of emotion urging him to take what Abby
offered. But how could he say no? He lifted her into his arms. She laid her
head on his chest. His heart beat wildly, and a feeling of euphoria swept
through him. The fog had receded from shore, and Devlin could see the beach,
the forest, the sky scattered with stars.

He
headed toward the blanket where they had shared supper. He laid Abby on the
blanket and brushed a strand of damp hair from her face. Moonlight filtered
down through the tree branches that hung over the beach, and illuminated her
skin and eyes.

“Abby,
you’re beautiful.” He watched as tears pooled in her eyes.

“No
one has ever said that to me before except my mother.” She smiled slightly.
“And she doesn’t count.”

He
caressed her face, and watched her shiver as a breeze blew over her wet body.
“What’s wrong with the men in Great Britain?” He wanted to touch her, really
touch her, but should he? “You’re cold. Come on, let’s get you home and into
some dry clothes.”

When
he tried to help her up, Abby shook her head. “No, Dev. I don’t want any dry
clothes. All I want is you, holding me, kissing me, skin to skin.” She pulled
her damp dress over her head and tossed it aside.