CHAPTER ONE
Cooper Island, eighteen years earlier . . .
He stood in the shadows of the kitchen and tried to decide which girl he wanted. An hour ago they had both fallen asleep in front of the television. Now they slept the way only the young could sleep—deeply, soundly.
Both were the right age—twelve, maybe thirteen—right on the cusp of womanhood. That was the way he liked them. Pure. Innocent. Virginal. They were small-town girls who lacked urban street smarts—the kind of girls who usually could be terrified into keeping the secret. If you tell anyone, I will come back and kill your parents and then I will kill you.
The cottage was some distance from the main hotel building where the wedding reception was taking place. The smaller girl’s grandmother owned the Aurora Point. Her friend’s mother worked there. Both adults were fully occupied with the crowd in the hotel tonight. There were no men in the picture—no fathers, no brothers; just the grandmother and the mother. No need to worry about them.
He had watched the girls closely ever since he had checked into the hotel. They had helped with the preparations for the wedding reception, setting up folding chairs and placing the flower arrangements on the tables.
Once the festivities had begun, the girls had taken off to entertain themselves. They had played Ping-Pong for some time and then disappeared into the cottage to watch television.
The taller girl was the prettier of the two, but with her slim, long-legged body, she might be more of a problem to control simply because of her size and reach. If she struggled—and some did struggle in spite of his threats—she might knock over an object or make some noise that would attract attention. Still, there was a sweet, dreamy air about her that was very appealing. Earlier in the evening she had taken obvious delight in arranging the silly decorations and then she had fussed with the flowers on the buffet table. The adults had smiled and let her tweak things.
The smaller girl wasn’t as pretty, but there was something intriguing about her attitude and self-confidence. She had been working behind the front desk when he had checked in. She had given him his key and instructions concerning his room with all the poise and assurance of an adult. She would grow up to become one of those bitchy women who were always giving orders, he thought. A real ball-buster. She needed to learn her place.
Now, standing in the shadows, he decided that she would be easier to handle. He could crush her with one arm and squeeze the air out of her lungs so that she couldn’t scream. But she was also the one who might be the hardest to subdue with threats. He might have to kill her afterward to be sure she didn’t talk.
In the end, fate made the decision for him. It was the smaller girl who awakened and padded, barefoot and yawning, into the kitchen to get a drink of water.
She never knew he was there until he put a hand over her mouth and carried her outside into the night.
CHAPTER TWO
Sanctuary Creek, present day
“You’re still grieving, Madeline.” Dr. William Fleming folded his hands on top of his desk. The professional concern in his eyes was infused with a gentle, more intimate vibe. “It’s been less than three months since you lost your grandmother. You were very close to her. She was your only surviving family member. Naturally you’ve been traumatized. It is very unwise to make serious, life-altering decisions when you are in a psychologically fragile state.”
On the other side of the window the Arizona sunshine blazed in a cloudless spring sky. But inside William’s office the air-conditioning was cranked up very high. Madeline Chase was chilled to the bone. She decided that it probably wasn’t fair to blame the AC system. It was William who made her so aware of the intense cold. The all-too-familiar sensation of feeling trapped seethed deep inside. She needed to escape and soon.#p#分页标题#e#
She crossed her legs and sat back in the padded leather chair. She had been raised in the executive suite of her grandmother’s small but very successful boutique hotel chain. She knew how to look like a woman in charge. And now that Edith Chase was gone, she was the woman in charge. She was the sole heir of her grandmother’s innkeeping business.
“If you knew me as well as you think you do, you’d know that I’m well aware of what I’m doing,” she said. “My decision is final. We will not be seeing each other again.”
He removed his stylish, titanium-framed glasses, set them on the desk, and exhaled deeply, making it clear with his body language that although he was very disappointed in her, he was willing to be patient and understanding.
Her attention was briefly caught by his hands. They were among his best features, she reflected—one of the many assets that she had placed in the plus column of the spreadsheet she had prepared a month ago at the start of their relationship. William’s hands were smooth, well manicured, and, like the rest of him, not intimidatingly large or powerful. They often moved in graceful little arcs when he talked. They were the hands of a man who read books that came from the literary end of the bestseller lists; the hands of a man who enjoyed dining in trendy restaurants and touring museums that featured modern art. They were soft, nonthreatening hands.