finally her lips had brushed his, torturing him, hungry and searching. He had lost control and made love to her.
The passion had been hotter than any he’d ever experienced. Holly’s body was a sultry haven in the midst of a world of corruption, her innocence so sweet it was erotic, primal. He’d wanted to taste it forever.
Yet, he’d had to leave. Especially when Holly’s father had discovered them together. That humiliating encounter was etched into his brain with painful clarity. Night was the hired help, a half breed who was fit to protect the former governor’s precious daughter, but not to touch her.
Samuel had thrown him out, his threats to ruin Night if he dirtied the doors of the estate again a staunch reminder of the man’s power and position, and Night’s lack thereof. Night had dealt with people like that before. The incident with Charity Carmichael for one. Her accusations had dogged him and always would.
This time, Night had known Langworthy was right—he and Holly were not meant to be together. She was lightness to his dark, a society heiress who belonged to the prominent Centennial family, while he was an ex-bounty hunter who belonged to himself and his job. So he had left. And, barring the dreams that haunted his nights, dreams of lying with her again, slick hot skin against her writhing form, he had never looked back.
Until now.
A wry chuckle rumbled from deep within his chest, filled with pain, as he opened the car door and inhaled the scent of freshly manicured lawn and money. Of course, even now, he’d returned to the Langworthy mansion as a special agent to investigate a crime, not as Holly’s lover.
Or as her baby’s father.
HOLLY HEARD the explosion in the foyer all the way up the winding staircase to her bedroom. The housekeeper’s low voice, a man’s angry one demanding to see her, her father’s commanding tone ordering the man to leave. Her mother’s soft cry for her father to listen.
“I’m here on official business, looking into the kidnapping of your grandson, Mr. Langworthy,” the man said in a tone so cold that a shiver chased up Holly’s spine. “And I’m not leaving until I speak with your daughter.”
“I was expecting another ICU agent, not you,” her father said.
“All our agents are working the case in one capacity or another. Colleen sent me here.”
Holly’s heart pounded as she realized the source of the familiar voice.
Night Walker had finally returned.
She had been expecting him any day, had known this moment would arrive, that she would have to face him. She had dreaded it with all her being.
He would never understand. Never forgive her.
One trembling hand went to her now flat stomach. The other clutched baby Sky’s stuffed bunny, Bun-Bun, to her chest, the scent of the baby powder and her son’s soft skin that lingered on it bringing a fresh wave of tears to her eyes. She had cried so much already….
But it hadn’t brought her son back. And neither had her father or the police.
Maybe Night would be able to do something.
She reached for the doorknob, ready to face his wrath when the door suddenly opened and Night appeared, her father on his heels, her mother’s fine-boned hand pulling at her father’s sleeve.
Most people thought Celia Langworthy a delicate flower of a woman who did as Holly’s father dictated, but Holly knew differently. Celia was smart and fiercely loving. She would also do anything for Samuel and her children. And her grandson.
“Please, Samuel, we have to do whatever we can to find the baby,” Celia pleaded.
Her father tried to get around Night to block the doorway, but Night overpowered him, his six-four, two-hundred pound body a menacing presence beside her petite mother. Holly drank in Night’s features as he charged into the room. She remembered the way he had looked that evening so long ago when he’d held her naked in his arms. The night he had taken her virginity and they had made a son.
His classically high cheekbones and dark coloring testified to his Cheyenne heritage. His pitch-black hair still brushed his collar and made her ache to run her hands through it. But his golden brown eyes raked over her without a trace of the desire they had that night. Instead, they pinned her to the spot with accusations.
The first time she’d seen Night Walker, she had been infatuated with the mysterious, enigmatic Native American. He was soulful, intense, a creature of the shadows. A loner who had found his place in the world, a solitary place he allowed no one to enter.
What a fool she’d been, certain that their passion was all that mattered. That she could breach those forbidden walls and touch the man within.
But she had grown up fast when he’d disappeared from her life. Even more quickly with her subsequent pregnancy.
“I’m here about the kidnapping,” he said without preamble. “ICU sent me.”
Samuel cleared his throat. “I don’t want you working on this case.”
“That’s not up to you, sir.” Night faced her father, the two men going eye for eye as if wild animals ready for battle.
Holly clutched her arms around her stomach, her insides quivering. Her father had been acting strangely ever since Sky had been kidnapped. She was sure he was keeping things from her. Maybe to protect her. Maybe not. Whichever, she didn’t give a flip about who he wanted on the case. She was tired of being out of the loop, protected, depending on others.
She wanted her baby found.
“Daddy, let me talk to him.”
“Yes,” Celia said, dragging her husband out the door. “Maybe he can help.”
“Then let’s go to my office,” her father said.
“No. I want to speak to Holly in private,” Night demanded.
Holly’s father shook his head. “Absolutely not.”
Emotions clouded Holly’s eyes. “Please, Daddy. I’ll be all right.”
Her father exchanged a charged look with Night, then relented, his body rigid. Night waited until her parents’ footsteps receded before he stalked toward her. Anger rolled off him in waves.
She stepped backward, her legs nearly buckling. Had he guessed the baby was his? “Night…”
“Show me the nursery.”
His sharp order took her off guard. She’d been certain he was going to ask her. Maybe he expected her to speak up….
His hand seized her arm and she winced, then he propelled her through the door and dragged her down the hall.
“Is it this way? Downstairs by the servants’ quarters so the nanny could hear him?”
His insult rankled. He assumed she was so spoiled she’d turn her baby over to a nanny? “No, it’s right here, beside my room.” She halted and jerked her arm free from his grip. “The adjoining bathroom
