The lack of even a nuance of emotion in his voice told her that there was probably a lot more to the story. She also knew that she was not going to get the rest—not tonight.
“That was certainly convenient from the government’s point of view,” she ventured.
“No, it wasn’t convenient for the government,” Jake said. There was a cold, sharp edge on the words. “The agency rather liked the idea of leaving Garrick in place so that they could watch him.”
“But that would have meant letting him get away with murder.”
“The spy game is a game that is played outside the rules. Those who take part do not allow themselves to be distracted by questions of legality or right and wrong, let alone justice. All that matters is information.”
She heard the bleak resignation in his voice and understood.
“It sounds as if you had your fill of that game,” she said.
“I will admit that it was thrilling for a time. I was young and up for adventure and risk. I told myself that I was doing my patriotic duty.”
“You were.”
“I like to think so. But I got weary of living in the shadows.”
“Trust me, no one understands that better than me.”
“I know that now,” he said.
“Is Elizabeth’s family aware that she was murdered?” Adelaide asked. “Or do they believe the suicide story?”
“At first they were convinced that Elizabeth took her own life. They knew all about her strange temperament. At the funeral her father told me that she had attempted suicide on more than one occasion in the past. But, yes, now they know the truth.”
“What happened?”
“After Garrick fell off that gambling ship, someone contacted Elizabeth’s father anonymously to tell him that his daughter had been having an affair with a foreign spy and that she had been actively engaged in espionage against her own country. The blackmailer claimed to be in possession of Elizabeth’s diary.”
“How did you come to suspect that it was Zolanda who had it?”
“When I went through Elizabeth’s appointment calendar, I found the dates and times of her sessions with Zolanda. On one of them she had jotted down a reminder that the psychic had requested her to bring her diary to the appointment. There was some nonsense about using it to analyze the energy of Elizabeth’s dreams.”
“Elizabeth’s family will be ruined if the contents of that diary land in the headlines,” Adelaide said.
“Yes. An illicit liaison can be dealt with by a powerful clan like the New York Bentons. Affairs are routine in that world. But accusations and insinuations of espionage and treason would destroy the family.”
Adelaide caught her breath. “That’s why you’re so determined to recover the diary. You’re trying to protect Elizabeth’s family from scandal.”
“That’s part of it, but the truth is I have an obligation to do everything I can to find that damned diary. I was her husband. I didn’t protect her.”
“Stop it.” Adelaide shot to her feet, clutching the blanket at her breast. “Listen to me, you are not responsible for what happened to Elizabeth. You cannot save someone who does not want to be saved or who cannot muster the willpower to save herself. You could not fix her unstable temperament. Obviously she was obsessed with Peter Garrick. She was doomed because of that obsession. That was not your fault.”
Jake was quiet for a long moment. “I have to find that diary.”
“I know. Believe me, I do understand. Your sense of duty and honor and responsibility won’t allow you any other option. But you must not blame yourself for the situation that Elizabeth and Garrick created. That is another matter entirely. You are simply trying to clean up the mess they made. It’s a task you have undertaken and you will see it through because that is the kind of man you are. But you are not at fault.”
Jake fell silent again for a short time.
“I have never thought of things in quite that way,” he admitted after a while. “It’s all been tangled up in my mind from the moment I walked down those basement steps and found Elizabeth. I was planning to tell her that I wanted a divorce, you see. I knew it would look as if she had hanged herself because she was so unhappy in her marriage.”
“So you blamed yourself for that, as well. What did happen there at the end?”
“Elizabeth was not a very good spy. She simply wasn’t interested in me or my business connections. All she cared about was Garrick, but she never managed to give him anything that he considered useful. When she got bored and restless with the role he had assigned to her, she became a liability as far as he was concerned. He finally concluded that she was more of a liability than an asset.”
“It’s all so sad,” Adelaide said. She became aware of the chill in the room. She pulled the blanket more securely around her shoulders and moved to stand in front of the dying fire. “Thank you for telling me about Elizabeth and the diary. It makes it easier to understand what we’re dealing with.”
Jake got to his feet and came to stand behind her. “You have a right to the whole story. I should have told you sooner.”
“You had every reason to be careful about confiding in me. After all, I’m an escapee from a lunatic asylum.”
“No,” Jake said. “You escaped from a gang of criminals holding you against your will and using you in experiments that involved dangerous drugs.”
Adelaide watched the flames. “It’s as if we are stuck in a spider’s web. Everyone who blunders into it gets caught: you and me, Madam Zolanda, Thelma Leggett—even Dr. Ormsby.”
“The doctor who worked in the Rushbrook lab?”
“Yes. I hated him but I honestly don’t think he cared about selling the drug—he was obsessed with his research.”
“Did he or the others ever figure out that you had made an antidote to Daydream?”
“No. Believe me, I kept that secret.”
“Good.”
“What are you thinking?” Adelaide said.
“That antidote may be your one ace in the hole if someone succeeds in grabbing you,” Jake said.
“What do you mean?”
“It gives you something to trade.”
“For what?”
“Your life.”
She made a face. “Thanks for the cheery thought. But even if that strategy worked, I’d end up back at the Rushbrook Sanitarium. I’d rather be dead.”
“Don’t talk like that. We’re going to get through this.”
“All right, but promise me one thing.”
“What?”
“If I end up back at Rushbrook, promise me that you’ll find a way to get me out.”
Jake gripped her shoulders and turned her around to face him.
“Last night on the beach I told you that I would kill anyone who tried to hurt you,” he said.
“Yes, I know. And it was very sweet of you.” A wistful sensation whispered through her. She smiled a little. “But you were hallucinating.”
“I remember every word and I meant every word. If you end up back at the asylum, I will come and get you and I will destroy anyone who stands in my way.”
She believed him. She could not explain why, but she did. There was a sharp, fierce edge to his words that told her he would keep the promise or die trying.
“Jake,” she said. “You cannot know how much that means to me.”
“Maybe not, but I do know how much you mean to me. The world.”
His mouth came down on hers in a kiss that sealed the vow.
Chapter 38
For a heartbeat she did not—could not—respond. There was heat and power and promise in his embrace but there was also risk. She was very sure now that she could trust him to try to protect her, but there was nothing he could do to shield her heart. She was falling in love with him. That was her fault, not his.
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Nevertheless, there was an unshakable bond between them, a bond forged by the forces that threatened them both. They needed each other if they were to have any chance of surviving the nightmare that had enveloped them.
That bond was enough, at least for tonight. She craved the raw thrill of abandoning herself to the desire that flared between them. She was desperate for a sensation strong enough to free her from the past, even if the escape was only temporary.
With a soft, muffled cry, she wrapped her arms around Jake’s neck and gave herself up to the embrace.
“Adelaide.”
He said her name in a hoarse, urgent growl infused with hunger and a need that resonated with something deep inside her.
His hands moved from her shoulders to the buttons of her blouse. He did not release her mouth as he got the garment open. The kiss bound them together as securely as any lock and chain.
She fumbled to tug the hem of his undershirt out of the waistband of his trousers. She had no practical experience in the business. Before Conrad she had enjoyed a few light flirtations with young men who were as shy and uncertain as herself. None of the relationships had progressed beyond stolen kisses and some illicit fondling in the shadows of a porch swing or the front seat of a car.
She had hoped to discover passion with Conrad but he had not encouraged her. His kisses had been nothing if not restrained. At the start of their relationship she had assumed it was because he was determined to be a gentleman. Toward the end she had concluded that she was one of those unfortunate women the doctors labeled frigid. She had been wrong on both counts.
She might be inexperienced but she applied herself to the task of pulling Jake’s undershirt free of his trousers with diligence and determination. The result was that by the time he got the zipper of her trousers down, she was threading her fingers through the crisp, curling hair of his chest. The feel of firm, masculine muscle beneath warm skin was beyond exciting. It was intoxicating.
He finally set her mouth free, albeit with obvious reluctance. He peeled off her blouse and tossed it down on the cot. Her rayon-and-silk knit bra was next. When his palms closed gently over her breasts, she heard him draw in a sharp breath.
“You are so beautiful,” he said.
She wasn’t beautiful, not in the way of a star like Vera Westlake, she thought. But, damn, it was exactly the sort of thing a woman needed to hear at a time like this.
He got her loose, flowing trousers open and pushed them down over her hips. They tumbled into a pool on the floor. She kicked the fabric aside, wanting to get it out of the way so that she could get closer to him.
When she was left in only her panties, he picked her up and set her down gently on his cot. He straightened just long enough to get rid of his own trousers and undershirt. In the low light of the fire she could see that he wore the latest in men’s undershorts, a pair of close-fitting briefs. She had seen the ads for them in the newspapers but she had never viewed them in person on a man. As she watched, fascinated, he stepped out of them.
Her mouth went dry. She was the daughter of two scientists and she was a professional librarian. She knew far more about biology than most sexually inexperienced women. Nevertheless, this was the first time she had ever seen a naked, heavily aroused man.
She managed to conceal her shock, but not without considerable effort. She was grateful for the deep shadows in the small cabin.
Instead of coming directly to the cot, Jake picked up his jacket, reached into an inside pocket, and took out a small tin.
“You’re going to smoke a cigarette?” she asked. “Now?”
He laughed. “I don’t smoke.”
“I’m glad to hear that. My father always said that smoking was very bad for the health.”
“Getting pregnant at the wrong time is not a good idea, either. This is a tin of condoms.”
“Oh.”
Talk about naïveté, she thought. She was probably beet red from head to toe. It would probably be a good idea to keep her mouth shut for a while. She did not want to sound any more unworldly than she already did.
Jake sheathed himself and then, very carefully, very deliberately, lowered himself alongside her, gathering her close. She was amazed that the cot did not collapse under their combined weight.
The furnace-hot warmth of his body was far more effective than the blanket when it came to warding off the chill of the damp night.
He touched her the way he might have touched a rare and extremely valuable vase—as if he could not believe he was holding her, as if he was afraid he might drop her. His hand skimmed lightly across her, exploring her with exquisite care, easing his way into the forbidden places.
When he bent his head to kiss the tips of her breasts, she could barely catch her breath. Her lower body clenched. An urgency built deep inside her. She felt like a tautly strung bow in the hands of a skilled archer.
Jake’s fingers went lower and suddenly she was melting. His touch became increasingly intimate. When he stroked between her thighs, she gasped, startled and astonished. He penetrated her gently with one finger, and for a few seconds she could not breathe at all. She curled her fingers into his shoulders and buried her face against his chest.
“Jake.”
“You’re so tight,” he grated against her ear. “Wet and tight and hot. I’m not going to last long once I’m inside you, so we’re going to make damn sure you come first.”
She was shocked all over again. No man had ever talked to her that way. She couldn’t find the words to respond verbally so, feeling very daring, she reached down between them and tentatively wrapped her fingers around him. She was alarmed and excited by the size of his erection.
He groaned again and drove himself deeper into her grasp. She got the message. She tightened her hold on him.
“That feels so good.” He lowered his head and kissed her throat. His words were a feral growl against her skin. “Much too good. But I told you, your turn first.”
He began to work the incredibly sensitive nub of firm flesh between her legs. The sense of urgency became overwhelming. After a while she released him to clutch at his shoulders. She moved her lower body against his hand, wanting—needing—something more.
“Jake.”
The release swept through her, a storm of sensation unlike anything she had ever experienced. The little waves of energy convulsed her entire body.
She did not realize she was trying to scream until she discovered that he had covered her mouth with his own, effectively muffling a shriek of pleasure that would no doubt have been audible in the neighboring cabin.
She wanted to laugh, to cry, to sing. She had never known that her body was capable of such a response. She was still marveling at the wonder of it all when Jake fitted the blunt tip of his erection to her still-quivering body and drove relentlessly into her.
It was too much. He was too big. She was too sensitive. Pain and the remnants of recent pleasure twisted together. She gasped and flattened her palms against his shoulders, instinctively trying to push him away.
Jake froze.
“Adelaide. What the hell—?”
“It’s all right,” she managed. “Just give me a minute.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
He started to withdraw.
She dug her fingers into his back. “No. It’s all right. I want this. I want you.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, damn it.”
He waited. She knew how much it cost him to restrain himself because his shoulders and back were wet with sweat.
Finally, cautiously, she urged him deeper. He braced himself on his elbows and sank slowly into her body.
A moment later his climax crashed through him. She caught his head between her hands and pulled his mouth down to hers so that she could kiss him. She swallowed his roar of mascul
ine satisfaction.
She had never been so aware of her feminine power, never felt so strong, so free. The thrill was intoxicating.
Chapter 39
Jake opened his eyes and contemplated what was left of the fire. He should get up, stir the embers, add a couple of sticks of kindling and another small log. But he was feeling very good at the moment. The last thing he wanted to do was move. Adelaide was cradled spoon-fashion against him. It was the only way the two of them could fit on the cot. She was soft and warm and delightfully curvy. The primal scents of the recent lovemaking infused the atmosphere.
He knew then that in the future, whenever he thought of this night—and he was certain that he would think of it often—it would not be just the intensity of his own physical release that he would recall. It would be the intoxicating kaleidoscope of sensations created by the raw elements of passion that would sear his memories. He would remember how the small rivulets of perspiration between Adelaide’s delicate breasts had mingled with the sweat on his chest. He would recall how the dampness had pooled between her thighs. He would have wet dreams about her tight body and the way she had clutched at him when he tried to withdraw. Most of all he would remember the way she had found her release in his arms.
No, he really did not want to get out of bed to prod the fire, but the chill of the night would only get worse if he stayed where he was. Reluctantly he eased himself off the cot and got to his feet. He reached down to tuck the blanket around Adelaide’s bare shoulders. She stirred then, turning onto her back and stretching her arms over her head in a luxuriously sensual way.
A jolt of lightning shot through him, and suddenly he was aroused all over again. Minutes ago he had concluded that he had never been so satisfied—so thoroughly relaxed—in his life. But just watching Adelaide made him want to climb back onto the cot.
“Is it morning yet?” she asked.
“No.” With a determined effort he forced himself to turn away from the sight of a very naked Adelaide and crossed the small space to the hearth. He grabbed a poker and prodded the embers. “I just got up to put another log on the fire.”