"I love you__"
She didn't know quite what it was about those three simple words. When the climax exploded upon her that time, it was as if a nova had burst across the heavens.
Three little words--difficult for him to say, but whispered with a joyous sureness. Difficult for him to say, and so incredibly special because of that. She whispered them in return. Sweetly and slowly and savoringly, she whispered them against his flesh. Then she curled against him and slept.
Later, she vaguely heard the phone ring. She even knew, because the warmth was gone, that he had left her. But she was so very drained and tired. She just kept sleeping.
He hadn't meant to sleep. He'd planned on Alexi doing so, but he hadn't counted on winding up quite so exhausted himself. But certain things just had a way of leading to certain other things.
The phone woke him. At first he didn't even recognize the ringing sound. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and ran his fingers through his hair, dimly aware that the machine in his office would pick it up. He heard Mark Eliot's voice, though, and leaped to his feet, anxious to catch the bedroom extension before Mark could hang up.
"Mark!"
"Rex. You know the guy you're so worried about, this Vinto character?"
"Yeah, what have you got?"
"He's out there somewhere. On the peninsula. I got a make on a rental car--a blue Mazda--and Harry Reese just told me he saw a blue Mazda turn down the road for the peninsula about half an hour ago."
"I'll be damned," Rex murmured. "Mark--thanks a lot.
I'm going to get over there now--before Alexi can find out anything about him being here."
"Oh," Mark said. "Oh! That's the John Vinto on the pictures of the magazines! The photographer. The ex-husband!"
"Yes!" Rex said. "I'm going to run, Mark. Thanks again. I'll talk to you soon."
He hung up and glanced over at Alexi. She murmured something, curling deeper into her pillow. Her hair was a spill of gold over his sheets; her form, half draped beneath covers and half bare, was both evocative and sweet. Emotions unlike anything he had ever known rose and swirled in a tumult inside him. Rex pulled the covers up around her and kissed her on the forehead.
He'd be damned if he'd let John Vinto anywhere near her again. Ever.
Rex dressed quickly in dark jeans and a pullover, grabbed a flashlight from his drawer and glanced at Alexi one more time. She was still sleeping. He hurried out of the house. Deciding not to take the car, he began a slow jog down the path. It was windy, he noticed, and the air had grown cool. Looking up at the sky as it grew dark with the coming of night, Rex noticed black patches against the gray. There was a storm brewing. A big one. He started running faster.
The porch and hallway lights had been left on at the Brandywine house; Emily had been taking care of the animals, and it seemed reasonable that she would leave lights on. Rex thought absently that he should have called Emily to tell her that he was back.
He saw the blue Mazda, sitting right before the path to the house. Then, right behind it, he noticed Emily's little red Toyota.
His heart began to beat too quickly. Emily. What if John Vinto was dangerous?
"Emily!" he called and charged up the path to the house. He swore, aware that he had forgotten his key. It didn't matter; the door was open. He pushed it inward.
"Emily! Samson! Vinto!" With a sense of deja vu, Rex tore up the stairs. There was no one in any of the bedrooms. What really worried him the most was that Samson didn't answer his calls.
He searched the downstairs, absently noticing that the wall beneath Pierre's portrait had been torn apart. Something must have started to fall, he thought, and Emily had called in help. What the hell difference did it make now? Vinto might well be a psychopath, and he was missing, along with Emily, one massive shepherd and two kittens.
Where the hell could they be?
Rex tore out of the house and raced toward the beach, trying to search through the trees. He traveled all the way through the trail of pines until the waves of the Atlantic crashed before him. He turned back. They had to be the other way.
His gaze fell on his own house. The lights were all on upstairs.
A streak of lightning suddenly lit up the sky; a crack of thunder boomed immediately after. Through the pines, Rex saw a jagged flare of fire catch, sizzle...and fade.
And then the lights in both houses went out. "Alexi!" he screamed. The rain began to fall as he raced back toward his house. He threw open the front door. "Alexi! Alexi! Alexi!"
There was no answer but the sure and ceaseless patter of the rain. He'd known she was gone. She was somewhere within the darkened Brandywine house.
"Alexi!" He started to run.
The bed was still warm beside her when Alexi awoke. She smiled. He was up, but he had to be nearby.
It had grown dark. She reached over to switch on the bedside lamp. "Rex?"
He didn't answer her. Alexi crawled out of bed and scrambled into her clothing. "Rex!" she called, zipping up her shorts. She started down the stairs and headed for his office. He wasn't there, and some sixth sense told her that he was nowhere in the house. She noticed that his answering machine was blinking. Curious, she went over and pressed the playback button, hoping that a message might give her a clue to his whereabouts. Maybe Gene had called. Maybe Rex had gone to meet him at the house.
Rex seemed to have a dozen messages. She sat through six business calls, two friends saying "hi" and then a call from Mark Eliot--a call that made her start in surprise. Rex's answers had been recorded, along with Mark's information.
Listening to the exchange, Alexi felt a numbness of fear sweep over her. John was there, on the peninsula. Why? Had he been there all along, watching her, spying on her, stalking her?
She gasped aloud, suddenly more afraid of the sound of Rex's voice. He meant to meet John. And God only knew what he meant to do. "No, oh, no!" She hurried toward the door. She didn't know what to do; she was too frightened to really think. John was her problem, though. Rex shouldn't be dealing with him. And she was afraid to think about just how Rex might be dealing with the man.
She ran, barefoot, toward the Brandywine house. Against the darkness of night, it seemed ablaze.
She hadn't noticed the coming storm. She screamed out, startled and cringing, as a bolt of lightning lit up the sky. Thunder cracked immediately, and then she saw a flash of fire. The fire sizzled out--and the world was pitched into an ebony darkness.
Rain started to fall against the earth in great, heavy plops.
Alexi swore softly and raced on toward the house. In a flash of lightning she saw an unfamiliar blue car and Emily's red Toyota. She kept going up the path. The front door was ajar; Alexi pushed it inward.
"Rex! Emily? Samson!" She swallowed, straining to see in the darkness. "John...?"
Alexi stumbled into the kitchen. She groped around the cabinets, reaching to the top to find a candle, then swore vociferously in her efforts to find matches. At last she came across a book of them and managed to light one with her chilled, dripping fingers. She cajoled the wick into catching, then raised the candle high. The kitchen seemed eerie in the darkness.
Something drifted over her bare foot. Alexi screamed and nearly dropped the candle, and for one instant she was convinced that her ancestral home was haunted--and that a ghost had wafted over her. Then she heard a soft, plaintive mewling.
"A kitten!" she whispered, stooping to find the little pile of fluff that had rubbed against her. She picked it up and smiled at the brilliant, scared eyes that met hers. "Silver. Where's your cohort? And where in heck is Samson? Hey, you're all wet...."
Alexi frowned and raised the candle higher. She gasped then, realizing that the back door was open. She stepped toward it and the porch beyond it, her frown deepening as she noticed a large, huddled form there. Her heart quickened with fear.