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She sighed as well, but then nodded and pushed herself to a sitting position so he could get up. He got to his feet and stared down at her, enchanted all over again by the sight of her, cheeks rosy from their lovemaking, her wild black hair tousled about her slim shoulders, her full breasts still bare.
“You’re beautiful,” he told her, wishing he was more of a poet, better with words because those seemed so completely inadequate for what he wanted to express to her. It wasn’t just her physical beauty that drew him, but her sweetness as well, the tenderness and passion she’d given him so selflessly.
She blushed, her cheeks getting even rosier, but she met his gaze, a myriad of emotions in her wide blue eyes. “You’re beautiful too.”
He grinned, leaning down to pick up the clothes he’d strewn across the floor in his haste to press his skin against hers. “Thank you. I suppose a man needs to hear that too, every once in a while.”
Laughing softly, she pulled the scratchy wool blanket up over her nakedness. He suddenly wished he could see her in his own bed, surrounded by satin sheets. She deserved so much more than these rough accommodations.
After he’d finished dressing, he leaned down and pressed a lingering kiss upon her cherry-red lips. “Why don’t you try and sleep now, darling? I’ll keep watch.”
She bit her lip, then nodded. “I don’t know if I can sleep after that, but I’ll try.”
“I’d like you to at least put your chemise back on,” he said softly. “Not that I don’t enjoy the thought of you laying there naked, but I just don’t want to worry about that in case they burst in on us again.”
“Oh, of course.” She scrambled up and pulled her chemise over her head in one swift motion, making him groan inwardly even though he knew she had to do it.
She fussed around for a moment, neatly folding her clothes and putting them within easy reach in case she did have to get dressed quickly, then climbed back under the lone blanket.
“Thank you for being so good to me tonight,” she whispered. “I don’t know how I could have made it through this night without you.”
He swallowed past a lump of emotion he couldn’t even name. “You’re very welcome.”
* * *
HEATHER SNUGGLED DEEPERinto the cot, trying to get as comfortable as possible as her gaze tracked Drake, still stunned by the earth-shattering lovemaking they’d shared. She watched as he sat down and began picking at the food Oscar had left, which looked just as tempting as the first tray had been. It surprised her a little bit that Jacob had bothered to feed them at all, and she figured someone else, Oscar apparently, must have organized the food.
The single night she’d shared with Jacob had been nothing like what had just happened between her and Drake. There had been no tenderness between her and Jacob, and he certainly hadn’t made certain she was ready, that she enjoyed it. While Drake... She shivered, still lost in the memories of the moments they’d spent in each other’s arms.
This must have been what Allison and Jocelyn had found with their husbands. This sense of complete rightness and belonging.
A sudden wash of tears filled her eyes at the thought that she had found this too late. That even if Drake felt the same way and wanted to see her again, they might not ever have that opportunity. She blinked them away, determined not to give into the panic that was beckoning in the back of her mind, wanting to drag her down into complete terror and despair.
No. She would not let the unknown future interfere with what had been the best night of her life so far. It was pointless, in any event. As she’d told Drake earlier, there wasn’t a damn thing she could do to change things. Whatever was going to happen was going to happen. All she could do was pray that Drake was clever enough to get them out of this.
With a sigh, she curled onto her side, closing her eyes, safe in the knowledge that her own personal policeman was watching over her.
* * *
DRAKE SPENT THE NEXThour staring sightlessly at the door, all of his senses attuned not to the untenable position in which he found himself but to the lovely woman who slept peacefully on the other side of the room. Occasionally, she’d make a soft sound, or there would be a rustle of the bedclothes, and it was all he could do to keep from crossing to her side and sliding into that bed next to her.
The lovemaking they’d shared earlier had ignited a passion within him that demanded to be satiated. She’d tasted so sweet and had melted at his touch so responsively. It had taken every ounce of willpower he had to walk away from her, to go back to guarding her against those bastards who’d taken them instead of holding her throughout the night.
Besides, he was letting his attraction to her completely derail him from the issue at hand. His concern for her had already made him weak, and their leader had sensed that and meant to use her against him. He had no idea if they’d actually hurt her come the morning, but he didn’t know the answers to the questions they’d asked, and he was terrified to find out just how far those bastards meant to take this. They’d already taken lives, so there was no reason to think they wouldn’t do so again if they felt threatened enough.
Somehow, he had to protect Heather and get back to his own life so he could keep an eye on Mortimer and keep trying to bring him to justice. God knew what the perverted devil was doing at this very moment. He’d never forgive himself if someone else died at his brother’s hands.
He’d tear that door off its hinges if he could in order to get out of here.
He frowned, his gaze sharpening on the hinges on the great oak doorway.
They appeared to be hung from this side.
It can’t possibly be that easy.
Excitement surging through him, he picked up the lantern and strode over to the door, holding the light up to the ancient, rusty hinges, which seemed as though they could be loosened. This door had probably been here for hundreds of years. It had definitely been built in a different era, an assembly of thick oak planks held together by iron bands. Could he simply take the door off the hinges? It was locked on the other side, but he ought to be able to pull it this way despite the lock if he could get it off the hinges.
Casting about the room, his gaze fell on the butter knife on the tray. Picking it up, he went back to the door and slowly went to work turning the first bolt, straining with all his might until it turned half a rotation. Elated, he kept working at it, and eventually, it was hanging on by the barest thread.
