His Dark Embrace

Smiling, she went into the kitchen, whipped up a devil’s food cake, and put it in the oven. She brushed her hair and her teeth, slipped on a clean sweater and a pair of jeans, and hurried across the street.

Thorne knew it was Skylynn even before she knocked on the door. He would have known she was nearby if he was deaf, dumb, and blind by the way his whole body yearned toward her.

“Hi,” she said breathlessly. “Is your offer to help me clean up Granda’s lab still good?”

“Sure. Just tell me when.”

“I was thinking about tonight, if you’re not too busy.”

His gaze met hers. “Never too busy for you.”

Her stomach did a quick somersault as his voice caressed her. Was that throaty, sensual purr something he practiced, or did it just come naturally? It slid over her skin like velvet warmed by the sun.

“Sky?”

“What? I mean, that’s great! I made a cake.”

“What kind?”

“Devil’s food. I hope you like fudge frosting.”

“Women and chocolate,” he muttered with a good-natured grin. “Is there a reason why you want to wait until tonight?”

“Not really.”

“Then let’s go. I’m not doing anything, and the sooner we get started, the sooner we can have that dessert.”

“Works for me,” Sky said, grinning. “I might even throw in a scoop of ice cream.”

“All the better.” After closing the door, he followed her across the street.

A patrol car pulled up as they reached the opposite curb and a ruddy-faced cop leaned out the window. “Everything okay here, Miss McNamara?”

“Yes, fine, Officer.”

“We’ll be keeping an eye on your place for the next few days. Be sure to call if you see anyone suspicious in the area.”

“I will. Thank you.”

With a nod, the cop put the car in gear and continued on down the street.

“Did anything else come up missing?” Thorne asked as they climbed the porch stairs.

“No. Apparently all the thief wanted was the formula, if that’s what he got. We really don’t have any way of knowing for sure what he took.”

“True, but my gut tells me it was the formula.”

In the kitchen, Skylynn filled a bucket with hot, soapy water. After pulling on a pair of rubber gloves, she grabbed a roll of paper towels, located a couple of old dishrags in a drawer, picked up the bucket, and headed for the basement.

“Here, let me carry that,” Thorne said, reaching for the pail.

“I’m not helpless.”

He inclined his head in her direction. “I know that. You’re a liberated female, but I’m still a gentleman. In my day, we looked after our women.”

She looked up at him, head canted to one side. “Your day? You couldn’t have been more than a baby when the women’s lib movement started.”

“Humor me,” he said with a wry grin.

With a shrug, she relinquished the bucket, then opened the door to the basement.

Thorne followed her down the stairs. Being a healthy male, he couldn’t help but admire the subtle sway of her hips, or the delightful curve of her derriere, nor could he ignore the flowery fragrance that clung to her skin. Or the way the front of his jeans suddenly felt very, very tight.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, he reined in his lust. Drawing his gaze from her delectable backside, he focused his attention on Paddy’s lab. It looked as he had seen it last, except now every visible surface was covered with fingerprint powder.

Thorne quickly put the furniture to rights while Skylynn attacked the fingerprint powder. His was by far the easier task.

Sky muttered under her breath as she washed the black powder off the top of one of the filing cabinets. She had heard stories of how difficult the stuff was to remove, but it was even worse than she had expected. Fortunately, the dust was only in the lab and the floor was linoleum and not carpet. When the Cunninghams down the street had been robbed, the crime lab technicians hadn’t been too careful about dusting for prints. The sticky stuff had gotten into the Cunninghams’ carpet and ruined it. Mr. Cunningham, who was a lawyer, had filed a claim against the police department and the city had replaced the Cunninghams’ carpet.

Sky was in the middle of washing down the doorjamb when Kaiden sniffed the air. “Something’s burning.”

“What? Oh, no! My cake!” Sky exclaimed. Dropping the rag on the floor, she ran out of the lab and up the stairs. “Darn it!” Grabbing a hot pad, she opened the oven door and pulled the pan from the oven.

“Looks a little singed,” Thorne remarked, coming up behind her.

Muttering, “It’s ruined,” she dropped the pan in the sink. “That darn thief! It’s all his fault,” she said, and burst into tears.

Kaiden reached around her to turn off the oven; then, blowing out a sigh, he drew her into his arms. “It’s only a cake, Sky Blue. It’s not the end of the world.”

“It’s not the cake,” she wailed. “It’s just ... everything.”

Drawing Sky with him, Kaiden braced his back against the counter. Unless he was mistaken, the floodgates were about to open.

“It’s okay, darlin’,” he murmured, “let it all out.”

And she did. She shed tears for her failed marriage and for her grandfather’s death. She wept because a good man wanted to marry her and she didn’t love him, and because she was afraid Sam was dead. She cried for the mess in the lab, for the cremated cake stinking up the kitchen, and because she didn’t know what to do about her future, her job, or the feasibility of keeping Granda’s house.

As her tears subsided, she grew increasingly aware of the man who was holding her close. One large hand lightly stroked her back. His breath ruffled her hair.

Sniffling, she looked up at him. “I’m sorry. I’m getting you all wet.”

“I’ll dry.” With the pads of his thumbs, he wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Feel better?”

She nodded, suddenly self-conscious. She must look a fright, with her eyes and nose all red and swollen. When she would have moved away, his arms curled around her waist again.

He’s going to kiss me.

And even as the thought crossed her mind, he was lowering his head, claiming her lips with his. It never occurred to her to resist.

She went up on her tiptoes, her arms twining around his neck, her eyelids fluttering down as one of her favorite teenage fantasies came to life. Unlike so many other things she had wished for, the reality was ever so much better than the dream. His mouth was warm and firm on hers; his arms held her body close to his. A distant part of her mind, the part that was still functioning, took note of the fact that they fit well together despite the difference in their height.