“I’d like that.” He doubted if she would, he thought with morbid humor, since she would be his only source of food.

“Vince, wouldn’t you like to kiss me?”

“Is that a trick question?”

“Well, wouldn’t you?”

“Is that an invitation?”

“If you want it to be.”

Scooting closer, he drew her into his arms. He held her for a moment, one hand stroking the silk of her hair before he lowered his head and claimed her lips with his. She tasted of butter and salt, popcorn and lemonade—and life. It flowed through her veins, thick and rich and red, whetting his appetite, arousing his desire. He deepened the kiss, easing her down to the ground so that they were lying side by side. He draped his arm over her waist, holding her close, basking in her nearness. The heat of her body warmed his own, and he held her closer.

She moaned softly, her body pressing more intimately against his.

“Careful,” he warned, and kissed her again. Her lips were incredibly soft and sweet.

She gasped when his tongue found her own, whether from passion or surprise, he didn’t know, though he had a feeling no one had ever kissed her so deeply before. The fact that she had never been with another man tempted him beyond reason and yet it was the one thing that protected her. He had done a lot of vile things in the last year, but thus far, he hadn’t defiled a virgin.

Cara whimpered softly. She was drowning, she thought, drowning in a sea of pleasure unlike anything she had ever known. Vince was kissing her, just kissing her, and yet she felt the heat of his kisses clear down to her toes. She was on fire and only he could put out the flame. She writhed against him, her hands clutching his back, kneading his shoulders. She wriggled underneath him, groaned at the welcome weight of his body on hers. Cara had little experience with boys, and less with men. In high school, she had been a nerd. She had never had a real boyfriend. The only kisses she had ever received were from playing kissing games at parties, but none of those kisses had been in the same universe as this one.

She slid her hands under his shirt, her fingers exploring his broad back, the indentation of his spine, the shape of his shoulder blades. She wanted to feel his skin against hers, to touch him and taste him. She was about to suggest he take off his shirt when he sat up.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Someone’s here.”

Cara glanced around, but she couldn’t see anything in the dark. “How do you know?”

“I can feel it.” He sniffed the air. “It’s your watch dog, Di Giorgio.”

“Di Giorgio!” She bolted upright, her cheeks burning with embarrassment and then horror as she realized that Di Giorgio would report everything to her parents.

Vince stood and then offered Cara his hand.

“Did he see us?” she asked anxiously.

“Not yet.”

She breathed a sigh of relief, and then frowned. “How do you even know he’s here?”

“I can hear him. He’s right over there,” Vince said, pointing.

“I don’t hear anything.”

“Come on, I’d better take you back to the library to get your car.”

“I don’t want to go home.”

“And I don’t want you to go,” Vince said, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

But it was probably for the best.

Chapter 8

Roshan made an effort to keep his temper in check as he stared at his daughter. She sat on the sofa, her hands clasped in her lap. As always, he was amazed to have her in his life. He had never expected to have a daughter, had resigned himself to being childless, and then she had come into his life, enriching it beyond measure. The thought of losing her was beyond bearing.

“What were you thinking?” he asked quietly. “Going off into the woods with some man you don’t even know? Merciful heavens, Cara, don’t you ever listen to the news? It seems like every other night there’s a story about some girl who’s disappeared!”

“I’m sure none of them had bodyguards, Daddy!”

“Di Giorgio said you were out of his sight for a short time. It only takes a minute to snuff out a life.”

Cara stared at her father. His eyes had gone hard and flat, and he spoke with such conviction that she might have thought he had taken a life or two himself if she hadn’t known better. “I’m sorry.”

Taking a step forward, Roshan placed his hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, too, Princess. I don’t mean to scold. I know you’re a big girl now. But you’re also a beautiful girl, and men have been taking advantage of beautiful young girls since time began.”

“I don’t mean to worry you, but, oh, Daddy, I like him so much!”

“Which one is this? The one who drives the BMW or the one who drives the Mustang? Or someone new?”

“The one who drives the Mustang, Dad. His name is Vince, and he owns a garage over on Seventh Street and…”

“And you can’t think about anything but him.”

Cara smiled up at her father. “Yes.”

“Sounds a little like love to me, Princess,” Roshan replied, and felt a sudden ache deep in his heart. This was the first time he’d seen that look in her eye or heard the excitement of first love in her voice. He had always known the day would come when another man would appear to take her away from him. Was this the man?

“Does it? Was that how it was for you with Mom? Did you know, the very first time you saw her, that she was the one?”

Roshan nodded. He had been on the verge of destroying himself when he fell in love with Brenna Flanagan’s picture. His need to know more about her, to find out who she was and where she had lived and how she had died, had become his sole reason for survival. She had quite literally saved his life. Ah, Brenna, was there ever another woman like her? She had given him a reason to go on living. She had given him a daughter…

He stroked Cara’s cheek. “Are we going to meet this young man?”

“Do you want to?”

What he wanted to do was send the man far away, erase him from Cara’s mind. He wasn’t ready for his daughter to leave home, didn’t think he would ever be ready, but it was the way of the world and so, with a smile, he said, “I think so.”

“When?”

“Preferably before the wedding,” he said dryly.

“Oh, Daddy!” She gave him a playful punch on the arm. “We aren’t getting married. I hardly know him. We’re just…you know, friends. How did you and Mom meet?”




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