Dark of the Night Page 25

  He wanted to taste all of her. Wanted to pull her deep inside and keep her there, safe and loved. He trailed kisses up along the line of her shoulder, then moved on to the tiny pink shell of her ear, tracing the gentle curve with his tongue. She shuddered with pleasure, her eyes flickering shut, and his mouth found hers again, taking possession, his teeth tugging at her lips, demanding entry.

  He slid a hand along her abdomen, dipping lower to find the soft nest of curls that marked the apex of her thighs. Sliding a finger inside, he began to move in rhythm with his tongue, thrusting deep, feeling her rub against him, responding with abandoned fervor, their bodies perfectly in tune. Moving together almost as one.

  “Now, Jake.” She tipped her head back, her eyes stormy in her passion, her breath coming in ragged gasps. “Please now.”

  He felt an answering response deep inside. A need so primal it threatened to unman him. With a growl, he swung her up into his arms, carrying her to the chaise. Their gazes met and held, their hunger almost palpable.

  He laid her down gently, then stood back to look at her. The moonlight kissed the gold in her hair, and highlighted the smoky silver of her eyes, its rays caressing the smooth alabaster of her skin, making her appear almost ethereal in the half-light.

  Riley.

  His Riley.

  Needing her now with a desire greater than he’d ever felt, he quickly shed the rest of his clothes and lowered his body to hers, reveling in the feel of her heated skin against his. She arched upward, flesh meeting flesh, and opened to him, the invitation in her eyes, taking his breath away.

  With a sure thrust, he found his way home, her slick, hot sheath tightening around him in welcome. Hands braced on either side of her, he strove for a rhythm, his desire meeting hers thrust for thrust, each movement bringing them closer, until there was no beginning and no end.

  Only the two of them, joined as one, winging higher and higher, spinning out of control, until, with a hoarse cry, he felt himself shatter, pleasure combining with love to bring an ecstasy beyond anything he’d ever imagined.

  And suddenly the night was cloaked with magic, the dark held firmly at bay.

  They lay entwined on a bed of discarded clothing and old velvet, stars still twinkling through the broken skylight. The moon had set, leaving the summer house clothed in deep shadow—a comforting darkness that enclosed them like a blanket.

  “We need to talk.” Jake’s voice sounded disembodied in the dark, and Riley burrowed closer.

  “I know. It’s just that everything is so perfect right now. I hate to spoil it.”

  “Maybe that’s the problem, Riley. Maybe we’re both striving for some kind of perfection that doesn’t exist. Maybe we’re setting ourselves up for failure before we ever start.” He cupped her face in his hands. “All I know for certain is that I love you. I love you, Riley. And nothing else is as important as that fact.”

  Her heart stopped, her breathing threatened to malfunction. “But there are still so many obstacles.” She had blurted out the first thing that came into her head, joy, love, apprehension, and fear all tangling together in one mass of emotion.

  “So we take it one step at a time.” His eyes searched hers, the question there making her shiver.

  “I can’t make promises, Jake. I don’t know where I’m going. I don’t even know for certain what tomorrow will bring. There’s still my father, and my commitment to him. I can’t just throw all of that out the window, like yesterday’s news.”

  “I’m not asking you to do that. I’m just asking that you give us a chance.”

  “But my father—”

  “Has no place in our relationship, Riley—whatever we decide we want that to be.”

  She sat up, running a hand through her hair. “I wish it were that easy.”

  He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back against him, enveloping her, his breath warm against her neck. “It can be.”

  She shook her head. “You don’t understand. I live in my father’s world. I’m part of it, Jake. I can’t just walk away.”

  “I’m not asking you to do that.”

  “No, but my father is. His whole life is about politics. If he becomes the next President, then my life, every part of it, will be open for public scrutiny.” She ran a weary hand across her eyes, wishing that she had a normal life—a normal father.

  But she didn’t.

  “So, what? You’re saying that we can’t be together?”

  “Yes . . . no . . .” She tipped her head back to look at him. “I don’t know what I’m saying, Jake. I only know that I don’t want to hurt my father.”

  “I fail to see how your being happy could possibly hurt him.” He turned her around, framing her face with his hands. “Riley, you can’t keep living your life for other people. Your father is going to be the President, not you.”

  “But don’t you see? I’m part of the package.”

  He traced the line of her cheek with his thumb. “All I know is that I’ve waited a hell of a long time to find you. And I’m not going to give you up without a fight.”

  Her heart tumbled, the blue in his eyes underscoring the truth in his words. It was right there in front of her. Everything she’d ever wanted. All she had to do was take it.

  “I care about you, Jake. I swear I do.”

  “But . . .”

  “But it’s so complicated.”

  “Only as complicated as you make it, sweetheart.” His voice was warm against her ear, and she shivered with pleasure, running a hand along the hard muscles of his chest. “We’ll find a way to work this out, Riley. As long as we’re together, we can accomplish anything.”

  She nodded, taking strength from his closeness. In the dark of the night it all seemed so clear, so easy. But come the morning, everything would be different.

  “It’s going to be light soon.” Again his words reflected her thoughts. “I should go.” He sat up, and she shivered, immediately missing his warmth. “I’ve got work to do.”

  “Michaels.”

  He nodded, reaching for the flashlight, turning it on, and propping it on the table. “Somehow I’ve got to figure out how he ties into everything that’s been happening.”

  She blinked uncomfortably, the harsh glare highlighting the dilapidated, rotting gazebo, destroying any sense of sanctuary. It seemed morning had come early. “But you’re at a dead end.”

  “There’s no such thing,” he said, pulling on his jeans. “It’s all a matter of how you approach it. There’s always a way out. I just have to find it.”

  She sighed, reaching for her dress. “A new path? But what if you’re wrong? What if there truly is no way out?” They were talking about more than Michaels now.

  “Then you just have to have a little faith, Riley.” He buttoned his shirt, smiling at her, and just for the moment anything seemed possible. “You said this was Caroline’s retreat. What did you mean by that?”

  “Daddy had it built for her. It was her own private haven. She came to read, to get away. Just to be, I guess. I haven’t been in here since she died. It didn’t seem appropriate until—” She broke off, embarrassed.

  “I’m honored.” Jake’s eyes met hers, his look sending little sparks of electricity dancing across her skin.

  She bent to pick up her belt, her eyes falling to the pile of rotting books at her feet. “Oh, my God.” She froze, her heart pounding, her eyes riveted on the floor.

  Jake was there in an instant, his arms around her. “What is it, sweetheart?”

  She swallowed, trying to find the words, pointing at one of the ragged books. “It’s My Brother Michael. The book I was telling you about. Caroline’s book.”

  Chapter 23

  JAKE FROWNED, BENDING down for the book. “The one you saw in Caroline’s room?”

  “With the lemonade. And then again in my room. How did it get here?” She ran a trembling finger along the spine, lifting her gaze to meet his.

  “It can’t be the same one, Riley. T
his one is warped with age. It’s practically ruined. Look at it.” He held it out, and she pulled back, almost afraid to touch it.

  But he was right. It wasn’t the same. The book in the house had been almost like new. The pages yellowed, but otherwise unmarred. This book was bowed, the jacket edges frayed, mildew darkening the spine.

  She took it from him and carefully turned to the first page, her heart constricting.

  “What is it?” Jake’s voice seemed to come from far away. “Riley?”

  She swallowed, struggling to find words. “This isn’t My Brother Michael. It’s a journal.”

  “But the dust cover—”

  “Was a decoy. Oh my God, Jake, this is Caroline’s diary.”

  “When is it dated?”

  She turned to the front, her hands shaking so hard she could hardly hold the book. The pages were blurred in places, sometimes impossible to read. But she could make out the date. “Jake, she wrote this the year she died.”

  “Come on, sit down. It’s all right. Just take deep breaths.” She sucked air into her lungs, closing her eyes, her hands holding onto the journal with a death grip. “Easy now.” She felt his arm around her, and forced herself to relax. There was nothing to be gained in hyper ventilating. “Let’s have a look at the book.” He eased it away from her, and, still breathing deeply, she opened her eyes.

  “When does it end?” She bit her bottom lip, watching as he carefully turned the weathered pages.

  “I can’t tell. The pages are stuck together.”

  She felt tears threatening. “All of them?”

  “No, just the ones at the very end.” His hold tightened, his strength comforting. “Shall I read some of it?”

  She shook her head, knowing that she needed to face this herself, to read it on her own. “No, I’ll do it.” She took the book back, opening it randomly, brushing away her tears, concentrated on her sister’s spidery scrawl.

  March 10

  . . . My dearest darling, as ever, I’m writing this to you. Perhaps someday you will read this and know how very much I love you. I think I felt you move today. Although I’m not certain. It seems a bit early. Still, it pleases me to think that you’re here growing inside of me.

  It’s an absolutely glorious day today. Spring is everywhere. In the garden, in the woods, but mostly in my heart. I long to shout the news of you from the highest mountain. It grows harder to be silent every day. And time is working against us. Before long you’ll be making yourself known, a new life anxious to make your mark on the world . . .

  The writing faded, a mud stain obscuring the words. Riley turned to another page.

  . . . Today I almost told Riley. We were at the river, and it was everything I could do not to sing it all out. But I held my tongue. It’s the first time I’ve ever lied to her. And I don’t like the way it feels. Still, I can’t trust her to keep my secret. She’s only a little girl. . . .

  “It’s unreadable again.” She looked up to meet Jake’s solemn gaze and then turned to another page, this one farther back in the book.

  . . . I know the time has come to tell him everything—to ask his blessing. But I can’t seem to work up the courage. He’s so sure of things, your grandfather. And I know he won’t believe me when I tell him that I’m in love with your daddy. Madly, passionately, forever in love.

  He’ll never understand. He’ll say I’m too young. That I don’t know my own mind. That you’re influencing me. But he’s wrong. I swear it, my darling. Your daddy completes me, and life without the two of you is untenable. Our love, our little family, is a lifetime thing. And I won’t give it up for anyone. Not anyone . . .

  This time the writing faded away completely, the pages afterward stuck together in a hopeless mass. Riley started to try to pull them apart, wanting something more, but Jake covered her hands with his.

  “Don’t. You’ll only destroy what’s there.”

  “But I need to know what happened. I need to know if she wrote something the day she died.”

  “I know you do. But this isn’t the way. Let me have the book. I’ll take it to David. He’ll know someone who can restore it, open the pages without ruining what’s on them. All right?” His eyes met hers, and reluctantly she nodded, letting him take the book, her emotions still roller-coastering inside her.

  He carefully flipped through the earlier pages, stopping now and then to read. “These are all letters to the baby.”

  Riley forced herself to look at the book. “Does she mention the father’s name?”

  “Not that I can see. But there are obscured passages throughout. The first entry is dated January third. My guess is she started this when she found out she was pregnant.”

  “So, that’s all there is.” Her voice came out on a harsh whisper, clouded with tears and grief.

  Jake laid the journal aside. “We’ll get to the rest. Trust me. For now, it’ll have to be enough to know that she was happy. That the baby was loved.”

  She brushed angrily at her tears. “It’s such a waste, Jake. She had everything to live for. It’s just not fair.”

  He turned her to face him, holding her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. “Life isn’t fair, Riley. I wish it were. But that’s just not the way it is. Things happen. Good things happen to bad people, and bad things happen to good people. The trick is to make something good out of the bad. To find the silver lining. I know that sounds clichéd, but it’s all about hope, sweetheart.”

  “Hope for what? Caroline had hope, and look what happened to her.” She tried but couldn’t keep the bitterness from her voice.

  “For tomorrow. For things yet to come. Maybe we have to make our own happy ending, Riley. Maybe that’s what we can take away from all this. You’ve cloistered yourself behind your pain long enough. It’s time for you to start living again. To make peace with your past.”

  “Easier said than done.” She attempted a smile, and failed.

  “I’m here.” His dark eyes met hers. “Let me help you.”

  “I wish you could. But this isn’t your fight, Jake. It’s mine. And before I can do anything else, I’ve got to find a way to tell my father.”

  “All of it?”

  She didn’t pretend to misunderstand him. “Everything. Caroline, you—all of it. I love my father, but I love you too. He’ll just have to find a way to deal with that.”

  “Say that again, please.”

  “My father will just have to deal with it.”

  “No, not that part.” His gaze collided with hers, the emotion there stealing her breath away. “The other thing.”

  She smiled, hope blossoming from somewhere deep inside, giving her courage. “I love you, Jacob Mahoney. I love you.”

  He pulled her close, and she found comfort in the strong beat of his heart. “Then whatever else happens, we’ll be all right.”

  She prayed that he was right, that somehow everything would work out. But somewhere, deep inside her, a little voice still whispered insistently that there was no such thing as a happily ever after.

  Riley let the hot water from the shower beat down upon her, her mind sorting through everything that had happened in the past few hours. Jake had told her he loved her. But what did that mean? Commitment? Marriage? Would he move to Washington? Would she stay here? In turn, she’d promised him she’d tell her father. But the thought was daunting. There was so much to sort out. And each answer seemed to raise more questions.

  Everything was spinning out of control. Even her memories weren’t immune. Caroline wasn’t what she’d seemed. She was so much more. And so much less. Riley wasn’t even sure how to begin assimilating the fact that her sister had died expecting a child.

  It was so tragic. So senselessly tragic. She leaned her head against the tile and closed her eyes, letting the water run over her, soothe her.

  Riley. Where are you? Riley . . . Riley?

  Caroline.

  Riley reached for the taps, turning off the water, her heart pounding. The ba
throom was silent, and she strained into the stillness, waiting to hear her sister’s voice again. Her mind insisted that she was giving in to her imagination, even as her heart waited, hoping to hear something, anything.

  The room was quiet.

  She stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around her, chastising herself for such foolishness. Her mind was simply overloaded, turning innocent noises into blasts from the past. She laughed at herself, the sound harsh in the echo of the bathroom.

  With a sigh, she slipped on her robe and walked into her bedroom, determined to gain control. She was letting it all get to her. And while it might be perfectly understandable, it wasn’t acceptable. She had more important things to do, and she wasn’t about to let her subconscious get the better of her.

  Her bedroom was cold after the warmth of the shower, and she shivered, her mind still caught in the cottony web of her imaginings. She sat on her bed, burying her face in her hands, tears of exhaustion threatening. There was simply too much for her tired brain to process.

  With a sigh, she lay back, turning on her side, her arms curling around her pillow. A soft fuzzy pillow. Swallowing a scream, she jerked upright, her eyes locked on the thing in her arms.

  Mr. McKafferty. She was holding her sister’s bear.

  “Riley, honey, what is it? What’s wrong?” Adelaide stood in the doorway, her eyes dark with worry.

  Tears slid down Riley’s face, and without thinking she threw herself, bear and all, into the housekeeper’s embrace. “I thought I heard Caroline’s voice. And then I found Mr. McKafferty. Oh God, Adelaide, everything’s turned upside down. I can’t work out what’s real and what’s an illusion.”

  “Hush now.” They sank onto the bed, the older woman rocking her back and forth, as if she were no more than a baby, Mr. McKafferty smushed between them. And Riley let the tears come. She cried for her sister. For Caroline’s baby. For the dreams that had died. She cried for her mother. For her father. For all that could have been. She cried for Jake. For all that had happened. For all that might never happen. She cried for herself, for the life she’d lost and the one that she’d gained.