Скачать книгу

keep the bogeyman away.

      As always, just before she closed her eyes, she prayed. “Please…please don’t let him find us,” she whispered fervently. “Please don’t let Justin find us.”

      Justin.

      Her personal bogeyman.

      The man they’d been running from for the past eleven months. If he found them, then he would destroy them. If he found them, then all would be lost.

      Chapter 2

      For the thirty-sixth day in a row, Luke woke up stone-cold sober. He opened his eyes and waited for the familiar banging in his head to begin, anticipated the nasty stale taste in his mouth.

      Then he remembered. He didn’t drink anymore.

      He sat on the edge of his bed and looked around. There was no denying it, without the hazy, rosy glow of an alcoholic buzz, the room where he lived in the back of the Honky Tonk looked grim.

      The room was tiny and held the battle scars of a thousand previous occupants. It boasted only a single bed, a rickety nightstand and chest of drawers and its own bathroom.

      He’d taken the room because he’d wanted to be off the family ranch and because most nights he worked at the Honky Tonk, playing his guitar and singing and, until a little over a month ago, drinking too much.

      Until a little over a month ago he’d thought he’d had a perfect life. He’d had his music and he’d had his booze and there had been nights when he hadn’t been sure what was more important to him.

      It had taken a crazy deputy trying to kill his sister, Johnna, to change Luke’s life.

      Luke had stumbled into the scene of the almost crime and, had he not immediately beforehand downed a couple of beers, he might have realized Johnna was in trouble. But, with reflexes too slow and a slightly foggy brain, Luke had become a victim, as well. He’d been knocked unconscious, and it had been up to somebody else to save not only Johnna, but Luke, as well.

      He’d awakened in the hospital with a concussion and a firm commitment to change his life. He was twenty-nine years old, and it was time to get his life together. And part of that new commitment included no more drinking, and working hard at his carpentry business, buying time until he could leave Inferno behind forever.

      But making the choice to change his life and actually doing it were two different things. There wasn’t a moment of the day that went by that he didn’t want a drink, had to consciously fight the seductive call of a bottle of Scotch or whiskey.

      He gazed at the clock on the scarred nightstand. After seven. He’d shower, dress and get right out to the Graham place to start work. Old Walt Macullough, who owned the lumberyard, liked to get his deliveries done early, before the infamous Inferno heat peaked midday.

      It wasn’t until he was standing beneath a hot spray of water that he remembered the dreams he’d had the night before. Crazy dreams…erotic dreams of a dark-haired woman with sexy spring-green eyes.

      He adjusted the temperature of the water to a cooler spray as his memories of the dream hiked his body temperature higher. In the dream he and Abigail had been splendidly naked and locked in an intimate embrace.

      His fingers tingled with the imaginary pleasure of stroking her silky skin, tangling in her length of rich, thick hair. And in his dream her sexy, husky voice had cried out with pleasure as he’d taken complete and total possession of her.

      Crazy. He shut off the water and grabbed a towel, shoving away the sensual imaginings. All the crazy dreams proved only that he’d been incredibly physically attracted to Mrs. Abigail Graham, but he certainly didn’t intend to follow through on his attraction. After all, she was a married lady, and Luke had never and would never mess with any woman who was married.

      But one thing was certain. Luke loved women. Maybe it was because his mother had died when giving birth to Luke’s sister, Johnna. Luke had only been a year old.

      He’d been raised by a parade of housekeepers, most of whom had stayed only for a month or two before being driven away by Luke’s father. Adam Delaney had been a son of a bitch, and keeping household help had been a real problem.

      The result was that women entranced Luke. He liked the way they smelled, the feel of their soft skin. He was fascinated by the way their minds worked, but that didn’t mean he wanted to bind himself to any woman for anything remotely resembling forever.

      Within minutes he was in his truck and headed for the Graham place, pleased to have a big job to keep him busy even though he would have to divide his time between the Graham house and the ranch.

      Still, there was nothing Luke liked better than working with his hands. At the family ranch he was in charge of maintenance, mending fences and outbuildings. But what he loved the most was cabinetry work, taking a piece of wood and transforming it into a piece of furniture.

      Macullough had already been there, Luke discovered as he parked in front of the ramshackle Graham place. A large pile of supplies had been unloaded by one side of the house.

      Before letting Abigail know he’d arrived, Luke walked to the supplies and did a mental checklist, making sure everything he needed had been delivered. In the back of his truck he’d loaded the power tools he knew he would need.

      When he was finished with the inventory, he grabbed his bulky toolbox from the truck bed, then approached the front door and knocked. Abigail answered the knock wearing a pink T-shirt and jeans and a warm, inviting smile.

      “Mr. Delaney.”

      “Good morning, and please make it Luke. I just thought I’d tell you that I was here.” He tried not to focus on the sweet scent of her that seemed to waft in the air all around him.

      “You weren’t kidding when you said the lumberyard would probably be here early,” she said as she stepped across the hole in the porch and pulled the door closed behind her. “The truck pulled up at six-thirty this morning. How about a cup of coffee before you get started?”

      “No, thanks,” Luke replied. “I’d like to get most of this porch torn down before the heat of the day gets too intense. Are your kids still in bed?”

      She smiled. “Not hardly. For the most part they’re on the same schedule as the sun…up at dawn and in bed at dusk. I’ve got them unloading boxes in their rooms.”

      Pink was definitely her color, he silently observed. The T-shirt put the hint of roses in her cheeks and made the green of her eyes appear more intense. He couldn’t help but notice the firm thrust of her breasts against the cotton material.

      He wondered where her husband was, if he’d already left for work or if it was possible he hadn’t yet joined his family in their new home. None of my business, he reminded himself firmly.

      “I think probably the best thing to do is once I get this all torn down, I’ll nail your front door shut so your children don’t forget and try to exit the house this way,” he said in an attempt to focus his thoughts on the task at hand. “You said you have a back door you can use to exit and enter the house?”

      “Yes, a door in the kitchen, and I think nailing this door shut is a terrific idea. As much as I like to think I’m always in control of the children, sometimes they escape my radar.” She flashed him a gorgeous smile that shot an arrow of heat directly into the pit of his stomach. “Do you have children?”

      “Nope. No children, no wife. I’m just footloose and fancy-free.”

      She nodded. “Well, I guess I’ll just go inside and let you get to work. Don’t hesitate to come on in if you need anything.” She took a step backward and instantly teetered on the edge of the hole in the wood.

      “Whoa,” Luke exclaimed. He reached out and grabbed her by the upper arms to steady her. Instantly she winced, and he quickly released her. “I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?” he asked, wondering if he’d used more force than he’d intended in grabbing her.

Скачать книгу