Lullabies and Lies (16 page)

“You need to sleep. We’re going to have a busy day tomorrow. No matter where the woman is, as soon as Natasha has an ID from that cell phone number, we’ll find her.”

“What if we don’t? What if the woman is just some crank? What if this is a wild-goose chase?” Sunny buried her face in her hands. “I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I keep seeing Emily alone, hungry, sick. What if they’re hurting her? What if she’s in the hands of some sick—” She stopped.

“Sunny—”

“What if she’s already dead?”

Griff could have recited all the what-ifs right along with her. He’d heard them all. Hell, he’d
said
them all. And he knew, too, that the more time that went by, the more real the what-ifs became.

He wrapped his fingers carefully around her arms and set her a little away from him, then lifted her chin with a finger. “Listen to me. You have to stop thinking like that.
You have to sleep and eat. You have to be strong, because
when
we find Emily, she’s going to need her mother.”

Her eyes implored him. “Tell me I’ll see her again.”

He pulled the covers back and patted the pillow. “Come on, get into bed. I’ll turn the lights out.”

With a wary look at him, Sunny obeyed. She climbed under the covers and lay down. Her deep, shaky sigh told him how exhausted she was.

He turned off the lamp, leaving the room in darkness, except for the pale blue glow of his laptop screen. He powered it down and closed it.

“Griff?”

“Yeah?”

“Tell me.”

A lump rose in his throat. The urge to promise her she’d see her baby tomorrow was overwhelming, but he bit his tongue.

No more empty lies. Hadn’t he learned to hate the smooth-talking FBI agents and detectives who’d kept promising him and his dad that they’d find Marianne? Even as a young teen, he’d known they were lying. It hadn’t stopped him from believing them. But he’d always sworn to be honest with the families.

He looked down at Sunny, curled up, her closed eyes damp with tears. Giving in to a yearning he’d suppressed since the first time he’d seen her, he leaned over and kissed her forehead gently. “You go to sleep. Tomorrow we’ll talk to Natasha. We’re close. Very close.”

He straightened and swallowed, but the lump was still there. He turned toward the connecting door.

“Griff?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re not going to leave me, are you?”

He sighed. How could he tell her no? How could he stand to stay? “Of course not. I’ll be right here.”

“You can lie down on the bed, too.”

Her sleepy, sexy voice sent thrills rushing through him, but he clenched his jaw, angry at himself. Her words stirred his body to life in a way that would shock her if she knew. But she was terrified and exhausted. If his presence would help her sleep, how could he refuse?

He was a master of control. It was a requirement in his business. He would never betray her trust that way. No matter how much his body ached for her. She was too scared, too vulnerable. Too close.

“I’ll just sit—”

“Please?”

He grimaced, and rubbed his eyes. “Okay,” he said reluctantly. He lay down on top of the covers, still in his jeans.

A soft sigh drifted past his ears like the breeze from a butterfly’s wing, and he felt Sunny’s tense body relax. Before long, her even breaths told him she’d fallen asleep.

He lay stiffly, careful to stay on his side of the bed, and trying not to move too much. He didn’t have a prayer in hell of falling asleep, but he didn’t want to chance waking her.

So he lay there, wanting her with an aching need that throbbed through him with every beat of his heart, and waited for morning.

BURT HAD HER. Sunny struggled with all her strength, but he’d wrapped her up in something. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. All she could do was scream
.

“Sunny.”

He touched her face
.

No! Get off me! I swear I don’t know where Emily is!

Then suddenly, Griff was there, big and strong and safe. He tossed Burt into an iron cage and held out his arms to her.

“You’re safe now. I’ll carry you,” he said. “We’re close.”

“Sunny, wake up.”

She curled her fingers against hot silky skin. The smell of soap and cinnamon swirled around her, a safe, yet exciting scent. The scent of strength and goodness.

“Sunny, it’s me, Griff. You were having a bad dream.”

The words finally penetrated her dream-soaked brain. “Griff?”

She felt his heart beating fast and strong. Felt his rapid breathing.

“I dreamed about Burt. He was going to kill me.”

“He’s in custody. You’re here with me. Safe.”

“Safe. That’s what you said.” She made a sad little sound that could as easily have been a sob. “I’m safe. But what about Emily?”

Suddenly, she couldn’t bear it any longer—the uncertainty, the fear for Emily’s safety, the horror of losing her baby. She broke down, all the locked-up grief and tension pouring out in uncontrollable sobs.

“Oh, God. I can’t do this. I can’t keep pretending.” The bedclothes were tangled around her, suffocating her. She pushed against them and leaped out of bed.

Griff was there, beside her. “Sunny, you’re still in the dream. You need to wake up. Come on, everything’s going to be fine.”

“No! No!” She pushed at him. “Stop it! Don’t lie to me! You haven’t lied to me before. Don’t lie now.”

But he had
. Griff’s heart thudded painfully in his chest. He’d lied to her every day, every minute. He’d never told her why he’d been chosen to work on her case.

“Come on. Let’s get you back in bed.” He held out his arms.

“No!” She slapped at his hands. “Get away from me. I can’t sleep.”

She paced back and forth, like a caged tiger. “Maybe I should look at your database. We should send it to Lil. She’s really good at finding patterns. Maybe—” Her voice broke.

Her pain dug into him. He couldn’t bear to see her so heartbroken. He couldn’t bear to see her trying so hard to hold on to control.

To his surprise, her knees gave way and she crumpled to the floor. She wrapped her arms around her knees and lowered her head, her slender back shaking.

Griff sat down on the floor beside her and gently pulled her into his arms. She didn’t resist.

After a while, her sobs quietened, then turned to an occasional little snuffle.

He blinked away the dampness from his own eyes, and stood, urging her up with him.

“Come on, let’s go to sleep. You need your strength for tomorrow. Remember, you’re going to see Emily.”

She felt breakable. It hurt him.

Guiding her over to the bed, he pulled back the tangled covers. “There you go. I’ll tuck you in.”

“Don’t.” Her voice was small but firm.

“Okay.” He brushed her hair away from her face with a hand that wasn’t totally steady. He’d comforted dozens of families through these times when their faith ran out and their hope faded, but Sunny’s breakdown had crushed his already sore heart.

His fingers lingered on her cheek for an instant, then he straightened.

“I’m going to—”

“Hold me. Please?”

He glanced at her in surprise. The little pink top she wore for sleeping outlined her small, perfect breasts. Her skin gleamed like porcelain in the dim light from the windows; her hair had dried wavy and soft, and floated around her head and shoulders like angel hair.

She was the most beautiful being he’d ever laid eyes on. He couldn’t touch her. He couldn’t trust himself to.

“That’s not a good idea.”

“Please. Please just stay here. You don’t know what I see when I close my eyes. I can’t do it alone.”

He did know. Too well. He squeezed his eyes shut, telling himself he was strong enough to bury his feelings. He could be a comfort to her. He could hold her and make her feel safe, the way no one had for him when his sister disappeared.

He sat down on the bed.

“I’m so cold. So scared. I can’t stop shaking. I can’t stop thinking about her.”

He realized he was shaking, too. He was finding it harder and harder to pretend she was just another terrified family member he was bound to help. She was becoming so much more. His body was already hard just from the thought of holding her close.

He would do anything for her, but he didn’t want to hold her. Once he touched her, he knew with an awful certainty he’d never be the same again.

Sunny saw the reluctance in his face. And the fear. She was afraid, too. She felt the life draining out of her, felt grief sucking away her strength. She needed something to draw on.

And Griff was the strongest, most honorable man she’d ever met.

“Make me feel safe.” She stared up at him, holding his gaze, until he blinked. She knew he’d lost the battle with himself.

He turned off the lamp.

Dim light filtering through the motel curtains outlined the shape of his body. Lean and long, with sleek, sharply planed muscles.

He slid into bed beside her and as naturally as if they’d been lovers for years, she slipped into the curve of his arm.

Pressing her cheek against the hollow between his shoulder and neck, she rested her hand on his chest and released a shuddering sigh.

“Sunny—” He stiffened.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, and pulled her hand away.

“It’s okay.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and let the fingers of his other hand brush her forearm. Then he slid his fingers down her arm to her wrist, then to her hand. He picked it up and pulled it to his lips, then lay it on his chest.

Oh, it felt so good, to be held, to be cherished.

The promise of his strong, sleek body against hers gave her what words never would. They gave her the strength to believe.

She didn’t care if she was stealing it from him. Didn’t care if the confidence and safety weren’t rightly hers. She’d take what she could get.

Tears gathered in her eyes as she relaxed against him. “You’re a good man, Griffin Stone.”

She felt his head shake. “No. No, I’m not. I’m trying to be.”

She turned her head and buried her nose in the hollow of his shoulder, letting her lips brush his skin. It was a small theft, just a tiny sense of the tantalizing mixture of strength and gentleness that characterized him.

He drew a sharp breath, and before she realized what she was doing, Sunny slid her hand around his neck.

His head bent and hers raised and their lips barely brushed each other, like the wake of a butterfly’s wing.

Inside her, something incredible happened. The feel of his mouth on hers was indescribable. His lips tasted like a healing potion.

At first he was hesitant, barely touching her, as if he thought she would break. But Sunny didn’t feel fragile.

She felt dazed and light-headed. She liked the feeling. It took away her fear, even if for a moment. She wanted to be filled, surrounded by him.

She deepened the kiss, and he growled in his throat, the sound vibrating through his lips.

A sensual thrill centered inside her, all the way down to the core of her sexuality.

He felt it, too. She knew he did because he slid down in the bed, pulling her with him, and stretched his body against hers. His hand reached around to cup her bottom and pull her close.

He wanted her. His body told her so.

The thought strengthened the throbbing yearning that engulfed her.

His body hardened, and he pressed against her, his erection hot, pulsing against her thighs as he took her mouth, then trailed his lips and tongue down her neck.

“I should stop,” he whispered raggedly against the hollow of her throat. “This isn’t right. You don’t want this.” He lifted his head and stared deep into her eyes, his so dark they looked black. “You just want comfort.”

She cupped his cheek with her hand. “I do want it. I want you. I need you.” She pulled his head back down and kissed him again, arching against him in a growing frenzy of need.

Griff moaned quietly and touched her, his fingers trailing heat over her skin as he slid her pajamas off.

His skin glided against hers, steel against silk. His heat warmed her fear-chilled body. His strength surrounded her. For this moment at least, she felt hope.

When he raised himself above her, she ran her hands up his sinewy arms to his broad shoulders, then encircled his neck. He slid into her with sweet agonizing slowness.

With a moan, Sunny arched, seeking more.

His breathing grew erratic. She felt his heart beating through his whole body, and hers sped up, matching his rhythm.

He sank hilt deep, filling her, giving her a sense of completion she’d never before felt.

Then he began to move, and a tremor built inside her. From her core, a wondrous tension built with agonizing, titillating slowness, until she wanted to scream with anticipation.

Just when she thought she couldn’t stand it any longer, he stiffened and strained against her, plunging again and again, driving her past all thought. His release triggered hers, and she reached her own nearly unbearable pinnacle just seconds after his.

105 hours missing

THE MORNING SUN shone in Hiram’s eyes as he looked across the street from the motel at his ancient Plymouth, sitting in the holding lot of the auto repair shop next door. The old girl had given him two hundred and seventy thousand miles of uncomplaining service over the past twelve years.

But now she was a goner, and he was stuck seventy miles outside of Philadelphia, and it was all Janie Gross’s fault. If she’d just answered her phone. He’d tried to call her three times last night to let her know that Sunny Loveless and the FBI agent were headed toward Bess’s.

The last time he’d called, while the tow truck was hauling his car back here, he’d dared to leave a message. Nothing specific. Just
you’d better call me
.

Turning away from the window, he looked at his watch and thought about calling Janie again, for the
last
time. He needed money, now more than ever, but he’d about decided being homeless on a street corner in the middle of winter would be better than putting up with Janie’s nutty paranoia.