have realized that. The innocent should not pay with the guilty.
The man, Joshua Watt, was no longer innocent.
Nemesis’s efforts had borne fruit, however, precipitating Lise’s flight to Seattle. While he had expected her to run, it had been a surprise when she’d opted to relocate to such a wet and cold climate, but he had followed her regardless. He had a mission and could not allow slight personal discomfort to sidetrack him.
Fury made him shake as he realized that she had already messed up his plans for Thanksgiving. He’d planned for them to spend it together, but she had thwarted him.
No, not her…the man. Joshua Watt.
No mere woman could hinder him—even the home-wrecking bitch. None of her efforts would have done any good if his wife had not found help from misguided men.
Despair surged through him as the memory of what he had lost tormented his agitated mind.
He must not focus on what he had lost, but on the justice he would mete out to the woman who wreaked such havoc with her horrible book.
He would see justice done on the Day of Judgment he had assigned.
Chapter 4
Lise sat on the porch swing, a throw around her shoulders to ward off the chill. Her white flannel nightgown wasn’t warm enough for the winter weather, but she had needed to be outside. She’d spent so much time hiding in her apartment the last few months that the outdoors had called to her like the irresistible sirens of old.
The stars that were invisible in Seattle’s light-polluted night sky glittered overhead and the fragrance of fresh air teased her nostrils. At three o’clock in the morning, the ranch yard was deserted. Even the dogs were sleeping. And she was thoroughly enjoying the solitude.
No stalker could see or hear her. Nemesis did not know where she was, and that would change tomorrow. So, for tonight she was determined to enjoy every nuance of the freedom she would not have again until her stalker was caught.
Being drawn to the swing could be attributed to having spent so many evenings of her childhood curled up on it, telling stories in her head and avoiding the coldness of the ranch house. Only she wasn’t remembering her childhood, or telling herself a story in her mind, or even plotting her next book.
Instead she was reliving the volatile feelings she’d had in Joshua’s arms last year on this very swing before she’d come to her senses and rejected him. Those feelings had been so different from anything she’d experienced with Mike, she’d been terrified. And she’d run.
Just as Joshua had accused her of doing, but tonight she could not run from the memory. She didn’t know why…perhaps because she’d realized today that Joshua still wanted her and while that desire frightened her, it also exhilarated her.
His wanting her confirmed her femininity in a way she was beginning to see she needed very badly, even if she didn’t want to explore the ramifications of it.
But knowing he wanted her impacted her senses almost as much as the kiss had and she was filled with unwanted sexual excitement. If she closed her eyes, she could almost taste his lips again.
Remembering the moment when his mouth had laid claim to her own made her nipples pebble with a stinging sensation against her nightgown. Had she ever wanted Mike this way? She didn’t remember it if she had. Pressing against her swollen breasts with the palms of her hands, she tried to alleviate the growing ache. It didn’t do any good. Between her legs throbbed and she clamped her thighs together, moaning softly.
This was awful.
She was not an overly sexual being. The coupling of male and female flesh did very little for her. It was a pleasant way to connect on an emotional level, but that was all.
This consuming ache was not pleasant, nor did it feel particularly emotional.
She was a physical animal, in touch with primitive needs she’d been certain she didn’t have.
In a reflexive move, her hands squeezed her breasts and she cried out softly, unbearably excited by the simple stimulation.
A harsh sound to her left caught her attention.
Her eyes flew open.
“Joshua…”
He stood a few feet away, sexual energy that matched her own vibrating off of him in physical waves that buffeted her already overstimulated body. He was just as he’d been on the night of the christening. Only this time he remained where he was, staring at her instead of joining her on the swing.
His face was cast in grim lines, his naked chest heaving with each breath of air he sucked in. The black curling hair on it tapered to the unbuttoned waistband on his jeans. The shadowy opening hinted at his maleness.
She wanted to lean forward and lower the zipper so she could see it all, which would be incredibly stupid.
Only right that very second, she could not quite remember why, not with her fingertips tingling with the need to act.
She watched in mesmerized fascination as a bulge grew in the front of his jeans. A large bulge.
“Lise…”
She looked up.
A gaze so hot it burned to her soul flamed her. They remained like that for several seconds of hushed silence, their eyes speaking intense messages of need while their lips remained silent.
The past ceased to exist.
The present consumed her.
Her reasons for caution melted away as her fear turned to a firestorm of desire. His presence devoured everything around them, leaving nothing but male and female communicating on the most basic level.
He took the steps that brought him within an inch of the swing. If she moved it, she would bump his legs.
She shivered at the thought of even that slight touch.
Dropping to his knees with a grace that spoke of leashed power, he knelt in front of her so they were eye level.
Neither of them spoke.
She couldn’t.
He reached out and put his hands over hers where they pressed against now throbbing, turgid peaks. The heat of his skin seeped into hers, making her burn with unnamable longing.
When his head lowered to let their lips meet, she met him halfway. She wanted his kiss, desperately.
She concentrated on each individual sensation of his lips slanting over hers, his beard stubble prickly against her chin, his taste…like the most irresistible nectar, the heat of his mouth, the warmth of his breath fanning her face. She had never known the intense pleasure she found in his mouth, the conflagration of her senses she experienced when they touched.
Part of her was still cognizant enough to know she should stop him for the sake of her own sanity, but it was a tiny voice lost in a hurricane of physical sensations.
Joshua
