Wild Desire

After eating breakfast in bed, making love again, and sharing a bath in a copper tub, Stephanie and Runner found it difficult to take enough time to become totally dressed. Over and over again they kissed awhile, embraced, then laughed and began dressing again, until finally they were ready to leave the room to check on Sharon and Jimmy.

“I’m anxious to see what Sharon has to say about her night in the hotel,” Stephanie said, going to the door and opening it. She glanced down at her camera equipment, then up at Runner. “Let’s come back for these after we see how Sharon and Jimmy are faring.”

Runner swept an arm around her waist as they left the room and walked down the dim corridor. “What other surprises are you going to spring on me?” he said, chuckling as he gave her a soft smile. “I enjoyed the night with you.” He yanked her closer to his side. “Even the champagne.”

As she smiled up at him, he gave her a quick wink. “And I don’t mean how it tasted from the glass,” he said, his eyes dancing.

A thrill coursed through her when she recalled their lengthy lovemaking that had lasted into the wee hours of the night, and how it had felt when Runner had licked champagne from her body after he had drizzled it from breast to breast, and then down across her quivering stomach, and then even lower.

Flames ignited within Stephanie at the thought of his mouth, tongue, and lips.

When they stepped up to the door that led into Sharon’s room, Stephanie noticed that it was ajar. She gave Runner a quick, questioning look.

“The door,” she said, in an almost whisper. “It’s not closed. Why would Sharon leave it open all night?”

Runner tensed. “Surely they are asleep and are not aware of it,” he said. He placed a hand to the door and slowly pushed it open.

The shades at the windows were pulled. leaving the room in a vague, shadowy darkness.

“They are still asleep,” Stephanie whispered. “Perhaps we should leave.”

Runner leaned toward the bed, his acute hearing revealing no sound of breathing.

“Something is not right here,” Runner said. He moved stealthily across the floor and rolled up a window shade.

Stephanie gasped and paled when she saw a pillow across Sharon’s face. She grew cold when she noticed just as quickly how Sharon’s body was lying prone and limp on the bed. A quick search of the room revealed that Jimmy was missing. She shifted her gaze back to Sharon. “Is . . . she . . . dead?” she stammered. She inched slowly toward the bed.

Runner rushed over and lifted the pillow away from Sharon. His mouth clenched and his jaw tightened when he found Sharon’s glazed eyes staring ahead in a death trance. The way her face was twisted so grotesquely, Runner could tell that she had experienced a terrifying, agonizing death.

Stephanie moved to Runner’s side. “No,” she gasped, clasping a hand over her mouth to stifle a scream. “She’s dead. Oh, Lord, Runner, she is dead.”

“He found out about her and the child somehow,” Runner said, anger welling up within him. “Damon Stout found out and came and killed his sister, and . . . and . . . took the child.”

“How could he do such a thing?” Stephanie said, tears streaming down her cheeks. “She was no threat to him. And the child—she didn’t want Damon even knowing about Jimmy, much less taking him away to raise as his own.”

“We will see to it that he won’t be given that chance,” Runner said, slowly covering Sharon with a blanket. “What he will be doing, though, is hanging from a noose.”

“Yes, we must go to the authorities immediately,” Stephanie said, brushing tears from her face.

Runner turned to her and clasped her shoulders. “No, not yet,” he said. “I will go and get the child first. Sending the law out for Damon could be risky. I will get the child to safety. Then I will take care of Damon myself.”

“You would take the law in your own hands?” Stephanie said, following him to the door. “No, Runner. I won’t allow it. You can’t risk your future—our future—by killing Damon Stout. Please listen to reason. Let the authorities take care of this.”

He turned to her and again clasped his hands to her shoulders. “The law works in strange, twisted ways,” he said solemnly. “My way is simple and to the point.”

“Please listen to reason,” Stephanie begged.

“You can stay and make arrangements for Sharon, or you can come with me,” Runner said, his voice much softer. “Someone should come to carry the baby when we take him from Damon’s ranch. I would hope that it would be you.”

Stephanie looked over her shoulder at Sharon. Tears filled her eyes again. “We can return later and see to her arrangements,” she said.

She felt empty and forlorn over the loss of a woman she had only known a few minutes, and she felt guilty for the long hours of pleasure that she and Runner had shared through the night. Had Sharon been dead even then?

A sudden horror seized Stephanie at the thought of Sharon possibly lying there all night, all alone in the dark, dead—her child stolen from her embrace.

“We’ll close the door and no one will be the wiser,” Runner said, placing a finger to Stephanie’s chin, turning her gaze up to his. “Are you going to be all right?”

“Yes,” Stephanie sobbed, then flung herself into his arms. “It’s so horrible. So very horrible. She died alone while we . . . while . . . we . . .”