In The Arms of a Stranger (11 page)

“Gonzalez has been captured.”

“Oh.” The look on her face transformed to pure joy and Luke felt a rush of pleasure at delivering the news.

“He was caught about an hour from here. You don't have to worry anymore.” Instead of tears of relief, as Luke had expected, she only stared at him, as though anticipating something more. “I'm sorry,” he whispered. “I never meant to doubt you. It's my job to ask questions.”

Dana nodded, her eyes suddenly damp.

He hesitated, his eyes searching hers. “There's a warm
front moving in. The snow should begin melting tomorrow.”

The words hung between them like a thin curtain. One that could remain or be brushed aside.

She realized in that moment that, against all odds and logic, she'd fallen in love with Luke Sutherlin.

“Then all this will be over by tomorrow?” she asked.

Luke nodded. “At least it's the beginning of the end.” He took a step toward her, and his gaze flickered over her mouth. “But we have tonight.”

D
ana stared at Luke, wondering at the man who stood before her. He'd rescued her, angered her, made her tremble with longings she'd thought dead. He'd hurt her and forgiven her for sins that weren't committed against him. And now he was humbling himself, offering her something that she couldn't define but wanted with all her heart.

The look in his eyes said that he wanted her as badly as she wanted him. All she had to do was say yes. Dana felt her knees weaken at the thought.

Maybe she and Luke were only for tonight. There had been a time when Dana would have turned away from a man like Luke Sutherlin, from the idea of such raw sexuality without the promise of forever. But that was before Robert taught her that forever was only a word and marriage merely a promise. A slip of paper that could be retracted like a typographical error. Both meant nothing if they weren't from the heart. Robert had stood before God and their family and friends and promised her forever. But he'd turned
his back on an innocent child and had left her without a moment's hesitation.

Now, with no witnesses, no licenses and no pretenses, Luke was offering himself to her. Yet he'd already given her so much—her life itself. The fire crackled behind her, and she closed her eyes, indecision pouring over her like the warmth from the flames.

Dana wanted him—his heart and his body—more than she wanted her next breath. Before she was aware that he'd moved, Luke's lips brushed her neck, soft but hungry. Gentle but insistent. The smell of his warm skin surrounded her, headily male. Completely Luke.

She wanted more.

“Luke…” she whispered.

He seized the opportunity to kiss her when she spoke, and Dana fell into the trance that was Luke Sutherlin. She was caught by the feel of his lips against hers, lifted to another place by the slight brush of his unshaven jaw as he slanted his mouth over hers. There was no awkward moment, only completion when their mouths joined, as they hungrily explored the taste and feel of each other.

He tore his mouth from hers and rested his head against her neck. “I want you—.” The words were whispered, but the deep timbre of Luke's voice vibrated against her neck, sending chills skittering across her skin. He smoothed her hair from her face, his big hands cupping the back of her head. He tilted her to face him, his gaze claiming hers. “I want you so bad that I ache.”

He closed the slight distance between their bodies, cupping her buttocks and lifting her against him. Dana felt his arousal as he allowed her body to slide against his, each inch maddeningly wonderful. Anxious to get closer to him, she shed her jacket and let it fall at their feet.

Luke's fingers toyed with the bottom of her shirt. “Say yes.”

Dana smiled, filled with a confidence she didn't know she still possessed. “Yes.”

She heard the sharp intake of his breath before he lifted the hem of her shirt over her head, stripping her of the garment and throwing it to the floor. Dana stood partially naked in the glow of the firelight. The warmth of the flames reached out to her, caressing her bare skin with invisible fingers. She was surrounded by the storm yet warmed by the fire, exposed at once to both life-taking and life-giving elements. The realization aroused some primal instinct, some need that drove her with even more certainty to Luke.

He was the one. If only for this night, he would forever be the one.

Luke seemed to sense that the barriers that had kept them apart were now gone. He lifted her, laying her down on the blanket-strewn mattress. His hands lingered, drifting slowly down her body until they stopped at the loose elastic waist of the fleece pants. In one slow motion he slid them from her hips and legs, taking her panties with them.

He knelt on the mattress, fully clothed, and reached for the front clasp of her bra. Unhooking it with one deft motion, he spilled her breasts free of the cups. She was completely naked, vulnerable to Luke's hot gaze as he drank in the sight of her. A deep moan resonated from his chest, and he fell forward, taking one breast fully in his mouth.

Dana's neck arched, her mouth parting in a silent sob at the sweet pleasure of Luke's mouth against her. Warm and slick-wet, his tongue encircled her nipple, stopping only to nip at her with his teeth, then lavish the same maddeningly sweet attention to the other.

He withdrew as quickly as he began, straightening to stand over her as she lay on the bed. Dana could see the
rapid rise and fall of his chest and automatically matched her own breathing to his, just as he'd taught her. She couldn't explain it but she was somehow connected to this man. Chills danced over her skin as she realized that she'd soon be connected to him in body as well as in soul.

Luke was silhouetted by the flames behind him, his shadow falling over her body like a taste of what was to come. His gaze never left hers as he undressed, first lifting the black T-shirt over his head. His broad chest was highlighted by the flames, shadows dancing against the curve of muscle and bone. He popped the fastener of his jeans. He hooked his thumbs beneath the denim waistband and, carrying his underwear with them, slid them past his hips and down his legs.

He turned, his legs parting slightly as he stepped out of the circle of fabric, and Dana's breath caught in her throat. Luke's silhouette now included every detail of his physique, from his broad tanned shoulders and muscled abdomen to the strength of his manhood.

Her hands reached for him as if of their own accord, and Luke obliged, kneeling over her on the mattress. Dana lifted her shoulders from the mattress and took him in her hands, marveling at the weight of him, the velvet hardness of his arousal, the evidence of his attraction to her. Slowly she began stroking, watching the sweet pain of restraint etch itself on Luke's face.

And then suddenly she was pinned against the mattress.

Skin met skin, fusing them together as Luke's chest pressed against her breasts, and his legs entwined with hers. Dana felt his arousal impatiently press against her parted legs as he pulled first one breast into his mouth then the other. He made love to the hardened peaks of her nipples with his tongue, then trailed kisses across her neck until his mouth met hers.

“It's never been like this,” he whispered, pulling back to meet her eyes.

Dana's response was lost when Luke slid his hands up her arms, lifting them over her head. His fingers entwined with hers, and she bent her knees in response, their gazes never parting. He entered her then, filling her, stretching her to the point of sweet torment. Dana shifted, desperate to take all of him, needing to feel the completion of him inside her. Soon they were moving against each other, mating with their bodies and their hearts.

Connected.

Dana arched her back as Luke moved in and out of her in a maddeningly slow cadence, creating a sweet burn that spread from their joined bodies to their joined hands.

“Luke—” Dana whispered his name as she felt herself lifted to another level of ecstasy. The heat in his gaze told her that he would follow.

“Dana,” Luke moaned, finally breaking their eye contact as he bent his head, his mouth searching and finding her breasts.

The pull of his mouth on her nipples matched the push and pull of his lovemaking, faster and sweeter still. She writhed beneath him, wanting all he had to offer. And he provided—the tightened muscles of his thighs brushing hers as he moved within her, and the sweet friction of their union pushing her to the edge.

Soon she was falling, succumbing to the completion that was the two of them.

She opened her eyes and found Luke's, watched the play of emotion on his face as he was carried over the edge with her. Every muscle in her body contracted just as he found his release, drawing him tighter within her as the pulsing, spilling of his seed began.

When their breathing slowed and the sheen of moisture
on their bodies began to cool, Luke rolled Dana to her side and wrapped them in the tangled sheets. He kissed the curve of her neck, resting his head against her back.

“Prince Charming was a damned fool,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion.

“Not to mention that he wasn't that charming,” Dana answered. She laughed and Luke held her tighter, his rumbling laugh mixing with hers.

She snuggled further into the protection of Luke's arms, filled with a completion she'd never known. How could something that started out so wrong end up so right?

Dana turned toward Luke, her eyes meeting his. “That sounded distinctly like a laugh,” she said, feigning shock. “You should do that more often.”

He kissed her on the end of the nose. “Ditto.”

“I mean it.” Dana's expression turned serious. “You don't smile often enough.”

He grinned at her, the gesture making his argument for him. “Maybe I just need something more to smile about.”

“Now?” she teased.

“Give me a minute and I'll take you up on that,” he whispered.

Her stomach did little flip-flops that she hadn't experienced since high school. But she wasn't letting him off the hook that easily.

She turned in his arms, wrapping her leg over his. “Earlier you said that you knew what it was like to carry someone else's guilt. What did you mean?”

He shifted uncomfortably, and Dana sensed that he wanted to bolt from the bed as well as the question. She tightened her leg over his, willing to hold him in place if need be.

“It happened a long time ago.” He sighed and rolled onto
his back, taking Dana part of the way with him. “It's better left in the past.”

The urge to know everything about Luke was consuming, just like the man himself, and she found it close to impossible to let the question drop. She trailed her fingers up and down his arm, following the play of muscle and reminding him that they'd just shared more than secrets.

Dana recalled something Luke mumbled after hitting his head. She took a chance. “Does it have something to do with the factory fire?”

Every muscle in Luke's body tensed, and Dana knew she'd been right.

“What do you know about that?” There was steel in his voice that made her blood run cold.

“You told me.”

“That's impossible.”

His words were delivered with conviction, but Dana thought she detected a tone of relief in his voice. Or so she hoped. She continued before she totally lost her nerve.

“I needed to keep you awake after you hit your head so we talked. You mentioned your father.” She hesitated. “You said he chained the doors of his factory and workers were killed in a fire.”

“Damn.” Dana expected Luke to bolt from the bed, but he didn't. He remained rigid instead, staring at the ceiling where the fire's shadows danced in a macabre motion. “I told you that?”

“Yes. Did you mean it literally?” she asked. “That he chained them in?”

“Yeah.” Luke hesitated. “Sutherlin Industries manufactures paper products. A lot of flammable liquids are involved. Even back then there were smoking regulations because of the chemicals and the paper products themselves. Some workers on the night shift were caught using the fire
exits to take unauthorized smoke breaks. Chaining them in like animals was his solution to the problem.”

Dana felt sick at the thought.

Luke was silent for a minute before he spoke. “It was my sixteenth birthday.” She recognized the detachment in his voice. It was the same defense mechanism she used on the air when reporting a tragedy. “I grew up that day in more ways than one,” he continued. “Everything changed. Everything.”

“How many people were killed?” Dana asked.

“Seventeen, some from the same family. Children were left without fathers, some without mothers. One little girl even lost both.” He ran his hand over his brow. “It was such a tragedy. The fire changed the whole town, not just me.”

“But it changed you, too.”

“Yeah. Until that day I never realized my father's power in this town. I realized we were wealthy compared to others but didn't understand the implications. My father and his partner owned several paper factories in the Appalachians, one here in Sweetwater. He employed—employs—half the town. He's powerful, the nucleus of a lot of people's lives. He should have accepted the responsibility, not just the power.”

“His partner, too.”

“Lawrence Williams, my father's partner, was in the factory when it burned. He paid the ultimate price. He got revenge from the grave, though…” Luke laughed a cold laugh. “My father married his widow, Camille.”

Dana felt the pain emanating from Luke, though his laughter belied the emotion. “Your stepmother is—”

“My father's partner's widow,” Luke filled in the blanks. “A convenient merging of assets that turned out not to be so convenient.”

“Was your father charged with murder?”

“No, the fire involved powerful chemicals and, of course, the paper products themselves. There were multiple explosions that destroyed everything. They could barely identify the dead much less collect hard evidence. Only rumors were left.”

“Then maybe it wasn't true. Maybe your father wasn't to blame.”

“I wish to God it wasn't, but it was. Camille—Williams at that time—accused my father in front of me.” He shook his head. “She was wild with grief for her husband.”

“That doesn't put her in the best position to judge, Luke.”

“Yeah, you're right. And maybe I would have given him the benefit of the doubt, but my father never denied the rumors to
me.
” Luke ran his hand through his hair and sighed. “He denied it publicly to anyone who would listen. But never to me. Never to his own son.”

“You were practically a kid. Maybe he didn't think he should involve you.”

“Oh, I was involved. The least he could have done was prepare me.”

“For what?”

“For becoming an outcast.”