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Always a Warrior(37)

By:Patricia Bruening




He heard her low groan and watched her lips part in invitation. He kept his hands gentle as he stroked and explored every glorious inch, every curve and valley of her. He kissed her, slowly and deeply, entwining their fingers on the pillow as he covered her. Blood pounded in his ears but he forced himself to go slow, to slide with gentle ease deep inside her.



Her breath caught then washed over him as he brought his mouth back to hers. She trembled under him and he could not stop the sheer male satisfaction of knowing she wanted him every bit as much as he wanted her. Her legs slid around him like silken bonds, her fingers tangling more fiercely with his. On a long slow stroke she erupted around him, drenching him in her liquid fire. With the next slow deep thrust, he followed her into ecstasy. As the aftershocks rippled through them, he held her against his heart and realized it was no longer his.

ALWAYS A WARRIOR Patricia Bruening

54



Cursing himself for allowing his personal feelings to come so far, so fast, he disengaged himself from her and left her sleeping in his bed. She grunted, shifted position, and wrapped her arms around the pillow he had just vacated. He had to distance himself from her—somehow. He pulled on his underwear and his jeans then leaned against the window frame and stared into the darkness. Even the rain had stopped and left only wet glass between him and the cold autumn night.



He could not hold her for the rest of the night and still walk away from her. He scowled.

In the end she would be the one walking away. It should not have been like this. He was not supposed to love her—bed her, yes, if she was amenable. But he could not love her. Love had no place in his life. Until now, he had never even believed in love. He certainly did not deserve it.

He had to live without her. He straddled the chair at the end of the table, stared out the window, and waited as the hours slowly passed.

ALWAYS A WARRIOR Patricia Bruening

55





Chapter Six




Consciousness came quickly but Laurie kept her eyes closed for a few minutes and simply listened. Birds sang outside. The fire crackled in the woodstove but she heard no other sounds. Stretching languorously under the blanket, she opened her eyes to bright morning sunshine. She rolled but found the other side of the bed empty. A quick glance around the cabin as she sat up brought a heavy sadness to her heart. True to his word, Damien had left. Blinking back tears, she scrambled off the bed and hurried to the loft for clean clothes.



Noting both empty beds, she wondered where Stacy was. Surely she would not have gone outside without permission. Laurie dressed hastily in black jeans and a red sweater then dashed down the stairs and out of the cabin.



“Stacy!” she called out, worried. “Stacy!”



But Stacy was not there. Laurie tramped among trees, searching the immediate area, but found no sign of her daughter. Nor was there anyone else around. Puzzled, she shot wild glances between trees. Damien had said someone would replace him. But she was alone in the mountains. Even Damien’s truck was gone. And Stacy! What had happened to her? Terror wrapped icy fingers around her heart as she ran back into the cabin.



“Stacy! Where are you?” she screamed on a rising tide of raw panic. Her screams reverberated through the cabin, a mocking echo in her ears.



“Get a grip,” she finally ordered herself. Stacy could not have gone far. Even if she had wandered into the woods, she could not have gotten far. Clamping a lid on panic, Laurie forced herself to think calmly.



She stuffed her wallet into her back pocket and grabbed her jacket. She needed help. She didn’t dare search the unfamiliar woods alone. She would end up getting herself lost. Her wild glance lit on the door under the stairs. It was the radio room. Relieved, she ducked into the closet-sized room and gaped at the sophisticated, state of the art electronic radio system.

Assuming Damien always left the machine on the same frequency; she pushed the power button and keyed the microphone.



It took monumental effort but she forced herself to speak calmly and succinctly. “If anyone is listening, I need help. My daughter is missing and I'm stranded in the mountains.”



“Get off the radio, lady,” a gruff voice ordered from the speaker. “This is a classified government frequency.”



“Wait! You don’t understand!” Fear bubbled in her voice and her hand trembled.



“Lady, you’re breaking the law! Get off the air!”



Control snapped. She grabbed the mike and yelled, “Listen, you government jackass! I don’t give a damn about your laws. Damien left me stranded here. My daughter is missing. Do something!”



“Not my problem.” The gruff voice turned sarcastic and the radio went silent. Nothing Laurie did prompted any kind of response from the speakers.