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But, oh, how she missed Hunter and worried constantly about the murder charges. There had never been a question in her mind that Hunter might have killed Louis. When she had paid a visit to Millie to have a black dress quickly made for the funeral, the dressmaker told her that Hunter had been planning for them to escape the morning she’d discovered Louis’s body.
She sighed and once more sat before her mirror. What would Friday bring? The funeral would be bad enough, with so many people staring at her, waiting for tears and wailing when she wanted to dance on the man’s grave.
But her main concern was the will. Would she find she was penniless once again? And then as horrible as that situation would be, a worse thought had occurred to her only recently. Since Hunter hadn’t killed Louis, who had? While the police had the wrong person whiling away his time in jail, the real killer remained free.
Glancing out the window of her bedroom, she realized a murderer, who had been in this very house, was out there somewhere. Chilled, she ran her palms up and down her arms.
Shortly after midnight, Hunter once more climbed the tree behind the Smith mansion until he was even with the window leading to the storage room he’d used before to enter the house. Hopefully no one thought it necessary to lock it since his last visit.
Jesse had gotten him out of jail only hours before. He’d been released into his uncle’s custody since the Judge hadn’t wanted to bond him out. Thank God Jesse had sufficient contacts in the legal field to lean on the Judge. They still had to post bail, and he was warned not to cause any trouble while out, or he would find himself behind bars again.
He hated taking advantage of his uncle once he’d fallen asleep by slipping out of the hotel like some troublesome adolescent, but he had to see Emily. Hold her. Make sure she was all right. She still had the funeral to face. Hopefully, after that things would begin to calm down for her. According to his uncle she had been quite upset when he’d visited.
His feet landed softly on the floor of the storeroom, and he waited a minute to make sure he hadn’t been heard. Even though he no longer had to worry about Louis finding him, any of the staff he might stumble upon would immediately report it to the police, which would drive another nail in his coffin.
The murder suspect knew how to get into the Smith mansion through a window.
He shuddered, just thinking about how Jesse would react to that little detail.
Emily lay on her side again, facing the window, a slight bump in the shadows. With practiced stealth learned in the Rangers, he moved across the floor and stood over her bed. She looked so young and delicate. Everything possessive in him rose to the surface, and all he wanted to do was snatch her from the bed and run. Except they tried that once before. He’d promised himself when he and Emily left Galveston it would be for good and with dignity.
He placed his hand on her shoulder and her eyes flew open. “Hunter!” A smile broke out on her face, and she grabbed his hand, pulling him down alongside her.
“You’re out of jail? Is it all right?”
“Yes, sweetheart, I didn’t make a break. Jesse bonded me out.” He pulled her to his chest and nuzzled her neck. “I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you.”
She wrapped her arms around his waist, holding him tight.
He tilted her chin to see her reflection in the moonlight. “I don’t like the dark circles under your eyes.”
Emily scooted over, making room on the bed for Hunter to join her. He toed off his boots and climbed in next to her, both of them leaning against the headboard. He grasped her hand in his and kissed her knuckles. “How I wish we could spend our nights together.”
“And I wish we could spend all our time together.”
He ran his knuckles down her soft cheek. “We will. As horrible as a murder is, you’re free now. I can’t say I’m sorry Louis was killed, because I was hoping to get him hanged for my father’s murder, anyway. But since he’s dead, as soon as this is all cleared up, we can leave. Together.”
She rested her head on his shoulder, tracing circles on his chest with her finger, driving him crazy with her light, delicate touch. “Where will we go?”
“Guthrie. But that doesn’t have to be our final stop. The whole world is open to us.”
Studying his face, she asked, “What do you mean?”
“I can’t ask you right now, honey, because of barriers in our way—such as me being charged with murder. Once that is resolved, I have an important question for you to answer.”
She blushed. “Which is?”
“Not yet, my little nosy Rosie.” Hunter reached out and brought her mouth to his. The nectar of Emily’s lips, the sweet taste of her as he swept into the warm dark space, skimming her teeth and sucking her tongue, filled him with longing, a craving so strong to possess her it became a physical ache. He had to claim her, make her his.
Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, he slid them both down until they were lying together, face to face. He cupped her cheeks and scattered kisses over her eyelids, nose, mouth, chin, anywhere his lips could touch.
While she fumbled to open the buttons on his shirt, his hand was busy gliding up her ribs to cover her breast. He squeezed the softness, smiling at the slight moan that escaped her lips as his thumb skimmed her nipple.
“I want to make love to you.” He whispered into her ear, licking the outside, blowing softly onto her tender skin. “I want to feel your soft skin against my hands, watch your face as passion claims you. I’ve wanted to hold you naked in my arms for a long time, since before you left Guthrie.”
She shuddered. “I can’t. I enjoy kissing you, I really do. But the other? It’s just t
oo painful.”
