His Brother's Wife by Michelle Love (16)

 

The dream had Sam in its grip. They were in her apartment on her couch, Isa’s head on his chest, his fingers tangled in her hair. She was talking to him, smiling, loving. But the sound was all wrong, like a record being played backward.

Then Isa was wrenched from his arms by an unknown force. Her head flew back, and she screamed, a heart-breaking noise of unimaginable pain. Her arms stretched out toward him, but he couldn’t reach her. Whatever had gotten hold of her drew her inexorably into a swirling mass of light. She disappeared. Sam leaped from the couch and found himself on a beach. The wind blew, and it sang its mournful song out of key.

The sea was a tumult of rage, destruction; the waves broke high, almost as tall as Sam. Above the noise, he heard a whisper.

‘Sam.’

Her voice. He turned. Isa was standing on an outcrop of rocks jutting out into the water. She faced the ocean, a long white robe making her seem ghostly, ethereal. Her long hair seemed darker, and it clouded around her head, black tendrils snaking down way past her waist. She was achingly beautiful.

Sam started to run toward her, screaming her name. But the more he ran, the further she moved away.

She held up a hand to halt him. A snapshot. A river of blood. He blinked and it had gone. She slowly turned to face him. Her eyes, the irises, the whites were entirely black. Her mouth was moving, silent words. He started toward her, and again the whisper carried itself to him.

‘You can’t save me, Sam.’

‘No, no! Isa!’ He watched in horror as a figure appeared behind her, locking its arm around her neck and raising a knife above its head. It plunged the blade into her.

Sam screamed her name. Her face creased in pain, and she cried out, again that horrific sound of agony. At the center of the white dress, a spot appeared and grew larger.

Blood. The figure stabbed her again.

‘No!’ Sam started to run to her, but it was as if he was running in treacle. The blood gushed from her in a torrent turning the ocean red. More snapshots. Angels. Stone angels. Trees. A ruined hospital. From behind him, Sam sensed a presence, but he did not want to take his eyes off her.

As he watched in despair, Isa’s body was wracked with spasms. She couldn’t stop the blood, losing more than a human body could possibly hold. Somewhere in his subconscious, Sam registered this fact – he knew it was just a dream, but he couldn’t escape the crushing grief as he watched his love, his life, being so savagely and mercilessly slaughtered.

He heard laughing behind him. Isa bent double, clutching at her ruined belly and when she stood, her eyes were normal – she was his Isa again. His heart broke when he saw the terror in her face. She gazed at him for a final time then her eyes fluttered shut, and her body dropped. Before she hit the rocks, a huge scarlet wave took her and threw her into the swirling mass.

‘No!’ Sam found himself where she had been standing and as he watched, the water pitched and reeled her broken body in a grotesque dance. Sam knelt and tried to catch hold of her, but every time he tried, his fingers passed through her as if she were liquid.

From the corner of his eye, he saw something move to his left. He looked up to see a man’s figure, immersed to the waist, wading toward him. Sam felt the desperate need to save her, even in death, from this man. He reached for Isa’s body only to jerk back. She was gone, replaced by a face. The face, inhuman, mocking, smiled at him.

‘She’ll never be safe.’

 

 

Sam only just made it to the bathroom before he threw up. Rinsing his mouth, he grabbed his cell phone and booked the next flight back to Seattle.

Seb decided against another drink and instead went out of the bar to get some air. The club was subdued tonight, he thought, but then realized it was probably just his mood. Since the attack on the gallery, he had been on edge, and with having to keep the secret of the death threat from his mom, he felt older than his young age. Outside the club, he had a view over the midnight waters of Elliott Bay and stared out morosely, watching the ferries move into the port, other pleasure boats scattered around. They looked so peaceful, he was almost envious.

‘Hey.’

He turned and smiled. His friend, Louisa, had followed him out of the club. Tall and slim, Louisa was a rock chick; her platinum hair short and spiky, her large brown eyes ringed with kohl. She grinned at him and Seb felt the pull of desire he always felt near her. They’d flirted harmlessly throughout freshmen and sophomore years but now, they were growing closer and Seb hoped they could be more than friends.

Louisa nudged his shoulder with his and handed him a cold bottle of Bud. ‘One for the road, handsome.’

He thanked her and let the cool liquid swirl down his throat. ‘How you doing, bub?’

‘Drunk, broke and horny,’ she said matter-of-factly and Seb threw his head back and laughed. Louisa never pulled any punches.

‘Well, I can help you out with one of them,’ he waggled his eyebrows at her, expecting her to roll her eyes, not take his joke seriously, like always but tonight, she just grinned at him.

‘About damn time you did,’ she said softly and Seb nearly choked on his beer. He stared at her for a long moment and she gazed back steadily.

‘You’re serious?’ He finally managed to say and she laughed.

‘Never more so. Come on, Seb, we both know that’s where we’ve been heading – don’t we?’

Seb stood and cupped her cheek in his hand. ‘I didn’t know, I hoped.’

‘Well,’ she said and brushed her lips lightly against his, ‘Permission granted.’

Seb kissed her deeply then, reveling in her sweet taste, breathing in the heady scent of her perfume. ‘I’d invited you back to mine but it’s a little crowded,’ he said regretfully.

‘My roommate is in Portland for the weekend,’ she said smoothly. ‘Now, stop talking and let’s go.’

Seb grinned and took her hand. ‘Lead on, ma’am.’

Isa opened her eyes sleepily as Sam slipped into bed beside her. He could see she wasn’t really awake, but she smiled anyway when she saw him.

‘Are you really here?’ Her voice was barely a whisper and he smiled, pressing his lips to hers.

‘I really am. I love you; I missed you.’ Sam pulled her into his arms, and a few seconds later, he could tell by her steady breathing she was asleep again. He could not shake that dream, that horrific dream. The vision of Isa having her life… clawed… from her had shaken him badly. He tipped her face up to his and watched as sleep had erased all stress from her face. If only he could find such peace.

Blood. So much blood.

He felt sick now, swallowing nausea as it rose in his throat. It wasn’t just the dream – for a little while now, he had had a terrible, haunting feeling that something was going to happen he wasn’t going to be able to control, and she would be taken from him suddenly, without warning.

His arms tightened around her, and it wasn’t until he was at the very edge of sleep, he realized the thing that had been bugging him since he got home.

The door to the apartment had been unlocked.

Isa touched the dried blood on her side, not comprehending. What the hell? She had woken up, overjoyed that her dream had been true and Sam was beside her in bed, but then a wave of overwhelming nausea had hit her, and she dashed to the bathroom to throw up. Was she getting sick? Her stomach roiled and heaved and as she had stood to rinse her mouth, she caught sight of herself in the antique full-length mirror she had propped against the wall. A dark red line of dried blood snaked down from her navel to her back. She frowned. Had she scratched herself? Whatever had caused it, she’d been laying on her back

‘Weird,’ she muttered then shrieked as Sam came up behind her, sliding his hands around her waist. He sniggered and kissed her cheek. She smiled, and they stared at their reflection in the mirror.

‘Would you look at how beautiful you are,’ he said softly. She flushed with pleasure.

‘You’re not so bad yourself.’ She twisted around in his arms so she could kiss him, smoothing his dark hair down. The kiss went on longer than she expected and she was breathless by the time they broke apart.

‘Do you think we’ll ever get tired of doing that?’ She smiled as his hand drifted down between her legs. ‘Or that…’ She shifted, her own hand moving to stroke his already erect cock but then, suddenly he stopped. She was confused until he traced the line of blood on her belly.

‘What’s this?’

‘I must have scratched myself; it’s nothing.’

He took her hands in his. ‘Your nails are short.’

Suddenly she really didn’t want to deal with whatever he was thinking. She turned away, grabbed her bath sponge, wet it and scrubbed the offending blood away. ‘See? All gone, nothing to see here.’

Sam was still frowning, but she ran her fingers over his forehead to smooth away the crease between his eyes. ‘Sam, it’s nothing.’ She pressed her lips to his firmly, feeling the tension in his body. She sighed. ‘Let’s not make a big deal out of nothing. Besides, I have a much better idea.’ She grinned at him and started to stroke his cock. She felt it tremble and stiffen under her hands. His body relaxed and he smiled.

‘You’re right.’ He looked up at the mirror and grinned. ‘I have an idea.’

 

He slid his diamond-hard cock slowly into her. Her leg was over his shoulders, and they both watched the reflection in the mirror as his shaft buried itself deep into her sex. He moved slowly in and out. The sight of his cock plunging into her, again and again, was an incredible turn-on and Sam saw she was helpless under his touch, especially when he started to knead her clit between his fore-finger and thumb. He smiled down at her, reveling in his control of her.

‘Tell me you belong to me,’ he whispered, increasing the pressure on her clitoris and she moaned.

‘I’m yours, Sam; I’m yours forever.’ She was breathless, every inch of skin vibrating with unbearable desire. With his free hand, he slid it onto her inner thigh, his fingers biting hard into the flesh. She gasped at the quick pain but smiled her pleasure at it.

‘Tell me you want me to fuck you hard.’

‘Fuck me hard, Sam, please…’

‘You want me to be rough?’

‘Yes… yes…’

‘How rough?’

Time seemed to stop as their gaze locked, a trust and an understanding forging between them. Then she spoke quietly, sending an otherworldly thrill through him.

‘Hurt me.’

Sam slammed her hands down, pinning them with one hand while the other hand pulled her other leg over his shoulder. He rammed himself into her as hard as he could, her cries of pain and pleasure spurring him on. She came quickly, he could feel the hot rush of her orgasm and grinning, he flipped her onto her stomach, pulling her hands behind her. She laughed, a thrilled, excited sound and his heart swelled at her perfect trust in him. He put his mouth to her ear.

 

‘Sweetheart, you know the safe word. Use it, and I’ll stop.’

She moaned. ‘Do me now...’ she ordered, and he grinned, thrusting into her ass, jubilant as he heard her gasp, pant, cry out, call his name, all of it the sheer music of her pleasure…

 

He thrust hard, not looking at her face. She had tried to kiss him, but he had turned his face away from her sharply.

‘That’s not what I’m paying you for.’

A stringy blonde was almost emaciated in her thinness. That’s what he had said he had wanted, someone the opposite of… her. He looked at the hooker’s hard face and smiled, a humorless expression. When he’d picked her up in the rental car, she knew she’d been what he was looking for; cold, hard, all business.

He’d undressed her mechanically and waited while she worked to get him hard. He hadn’t let her lay down. Instead, he took her against the wall. She had winced as he pushed himself into her, but he ignored her. She was a whore and she’d had worse. Like an automaton, he fucked her, clinical, cold.

She looked at him; her mind turned off from the physicality of what they were doing. He was handsome if a little… he looked like he’d alphabetize his canned goods, she thought to herself. The thought made her giggle, and he looked her in irritation. She thought of the money he’d given her, enough that she wouldn’t have to turn tricks for a month and kept her mouth shut. This was a good gig. So far just fucking, nothing… hell, though, if he wanted kinky, with what he was paying her, she’d have a hard time saying no.

He groaned as he came, burying his face in her neck, saying a woman’s name over and over. She stayed silent but put her arms around him. She held him for a few moments and then he withdrew and stepped away from her. His face was cold.

‘Lay down.’ She did as he asked. He reached over and pulled a backpack toward him. He pulled a length of rope from it. She sat up, alarmed, but he held his hand up.

‘Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you, and I’ll only tie you very loosely. You’ll still be able to move quite freely.’

She lay back down, but she still watched him uneasily. He pulled a knife from the bag.

‘Hey now, come on,’ she whined in fear, sitting up again. He smiled at her. His voice was seductive as he spoke.

‘I promise; I’m not going to stab you. I just want to hold this to you whilst I fuck you. Please. At no point will it cut you or penetrate you. I’ll double your fee.’

She was shaking now. She’d had kinky johns before but this man was frightening. She calculated the distance between her and the end of the alley. If he wanted to kill her, he’d have no trouble catching her before she even got halfway. She could scream, but how many times had she screamed in filthy alleyways – and how many times had anybody, anybody, reacted?

She had to go along with him, hoping against hope he meant what he said. She gave the smallest nod. He kept his word, tying her hands loosely. She could have pulled the rope apart easily, so he was at least right on that part. He was tender this time, stroking her body. She watched his every move, her entire body tensing as he picked up the knife. She shivered as he placed the flat edge against her skin and then again as he traced the line down the middle of her body with the tip. He began to make love to her, the knife resting against her stomach. He began to thrust hard, grunting with every stroke, and again, he said the name over and over.

Isa. Isa. Isa.

As he came, he collapsed onto her, breathed, harsh, ragged sounds, his weight pressing down on her, she whispered in his ear.

‘Are you going to kill her?’

He breathed heavily, once, twice, keeping his face hidden in her neck. Then he lifted his head and smiled nastily.

‘Of course, I’m going to kill her. I’m going to kill her slowly, intimately. I’ll put my knife into her belly over and over until she’s dead.’

The girl gasped as he slid his hands around her throat and began to squeeze. As she choked, her life slipping away, she saw the monster, the soul devoid of pity and was grateful. Grateful that she wasn’t the other woman he was thinking about, the one he would butcher without mercy.

Grateful that for herself it was over so quickly…

 

Isa pushed open the door of the restaurant slowly, ready to turn around and forget this whole thing. Casey Hamilton was seated near the door, however, and waved. No escape now. Isa plastered a smile her face and shook the woman’s hand. A waiter, his glance admiring, pulled out her chair for her.

‘I’m so glad you could make it,’ Casey’s smile was friendly enough, ‘I didn’t think you’d call. Not that I would have blamed you.’

Isa recognized passive-aggressive behavior when it was right in front of her, but she nodded. ‘That’s okay.’ She felt tongue-tied, nervous. Why had she agreed to this? The women looked over the menu for a few minutes: Casey ordering a cobb salad: Isa, the club sandwich.

‘You’re so lucky,’ Casey wafted a hand in the air, ‘I can’t touch carbs.’

Oh lord, so that’s how it’s going to be. Isa sipped her iced water and said nothing. Casey folded her hands on the table and leaned forward, her ice blue eyes focused on Isa’s. ’So, tell me about your plans now. Are you going to find somewhere else to exhibit? What’s happening with the gallery?’

The waiter bought some wine and Isa took a grateful gulp before she answered. ‘We’re rebuilding. Actually, we’ve bought the old Sacred Heart hospital – you know it?’

Casey nodded, and Isa continued. ‘It’ll be a huge project, renovating the whole thing but we’ve just fallen in love with the place.’

‘Who is ‘we’?’

Isa took another gulp. ‘My adoptive mother, Zoe. It was her gallery that was destroyed. Seb, Zoe’s son, my brother. My partner.’ Suddenly she didn’t want to say Sam’s name to this woman. She still wasn’t convinced they didn’t know each other. On the other hand…

 

‘My partner is Sam Levy.’

Casey’s face was politely blank. ‘The art dealer?’ Isa nodded.

‘Do you know him?’

Casey smiled, but Isa caught the loaded pause. Fuck. ‘I think I might have met him back in the day.’

Isa hated that expression – what the hell did it mean? What day? What was ‘the day’? Her shoulders hitched up in irritation, and suddenly she wanted to press the woman further. ‘It just seemed, that day at the gallery, that you knew each other.’

Casey smirked, and Isa wanted to slap it off her smug face. This had been such a huge mistake. She really didn’t like this woman; her first instincts had been right on the money. Just get through this. Isa sighed and decided to cut to the chase.

‘Miss Hamilton – ‘

‘Casey.’

‘Casey… it was nice of you to reach out to me but really, I don’t know what we can do for each other. I really am just an amateur. I love art, but my work at the college is my career. The exhibit was just – ‘

‘Sam’s idea? A gift for his paramour?’

Ouch. Isa shrugged and glanced at her watch. God, had it only been ten minutes? ‘So what is it you want?’

Casey smirked again. ‘I just wanted to see the artist behind the work. For what it’s worth, I don’t think Sam was just being a good boyfriend. His eye for talent is known throughout the business.’

So she did know him, know of his reputation anyway. Isa decided she didn’t like Casey calling him Sam. Mr. Levy to you, bitch. She was shocked at herself then; it wasn’t like her to be the jealous type. She sighed and rubbed her eyes. She was so tired lately, so grouchy.

‘Are you alright?’ Casey was watching her, her eyes amused. Isa was saved by the food arriving, and she fell gratefully onto the sandwich. Casey picked delicately at the salad, casting amused glances at Isa, who chomped defiantly.

‘Have you been working on any new pieces?’

 

It wouldn’t hurt to show some interest. God, this sandwich is good. Isa realized she wasn’t listening to Casey’s reply.

‘Not until I saw your work. You really inspired me, Isabel. Shame about the fire. Did you lose much?’

Isa waited to finish her mouthful before answering. ‘A few pieces.’

‘Shame.’ But Casey’s eyes betrayed her amusement and her satisfaction. Isa stared back, her gaze steady.

‘I ask again, Miss Hamilton, what is it you want?’ Isa had had enough of this, she had better things to do with her time than deal with this bitchy, smug…

‘Actually, you know what? Nothing. I just wanted to see what he saw in you.’

An icy shock to her heart. ‘What?’

Casey smiled. ‘I meant as an art dealer. Why you merited the Levy treatment.’

Liar. Her temper almost at boiling point, Isa put down the remains of her sandwich and picked up her purse. She pulled out some money and, standing, put it down on the table. ‘I have to go. Thanks for lunch, Miss Hamilton, I wish you every luck.’

 

Casey smirked but as Isa reached for the door, she called out, and Isa whirled around, her heart thumping.

‘What did you say?’

Casey smiled, and there was no warmth in her cold, dead, eyes. ‘I said stay safe, Isabel.’

‘Sorry to keep you, Mr. Levy.’ Det. John Halsey smiled at him as they shook hands. He showed Sam into his office, offered him coffee, which Sam refused politely.

‘Detective Halsey, I’m sorry to get straight to it but has there been any progress, any progress at all?’

‘We spoke to Karl Dudek. He denies any knowledge of the threats, of course, but for what it’s worth, I believe him. He seemed genuinely contrite for how his relationship with Miss Flynn ended.’

Sam said nothing, his jaw clenching in frustration.

Halsey frowned. ‘You still getting the messages?’

 

Sam sighed. ‘No. It’s just… something strange happened.’ He had been about to tell him about the strange cut on Isa’s body but even to his ears; it sounded ridiculous. He decided to frame it differently. ‘I think he’s been in the house. At night. I was in New York, and when I came home, the door to Isa’s apartment was unlocked. She had a cut on her stomach… just a tiny one but…’ He trailed off when he saw Halsey’s raised eyebrows. ‘I know, it sounds ridiculously paranoid on my part but…’ Sam suddenly felt his whole body slump, and he dropped his head into his hands.

There was a short silence then. ‘Mr. Levy. I understand. I know this must be hard for you, for your family especially, but I can assure you we are doing everything we can. Whoever sent those messages used burner phones, so our avenues of investigation are limited. But stalking is a crime in Washington State so as soon as we know anything…’

Sam was staring at the detective. ‘What did you mean ‘especially for my family’?’

John Halsey smiled at him kindly. ‘Mr. Levy… Sam, when we investigate a crime we look into everyone’s past. Everyone. I know the horror you’ve had to witness; the horror you fear repeating itself with your lovely Isabel.’

He got up and walked around the desk to place a hand on the younger man’s shoulder.

‘I know, Sam. I know what happened thirty years ago.’

 

Cal was sitting on the steps to her apartment when Isa got back to the island. She smiled when she saw him, his cheerful face making her entire body relax. He bounded down the wooden steps like an excited puppy and hugged her.

‘Hey, little sis.’

She giggled as she hugged him back. ‘What are you doing here? And why are you outside? Isn’t Zoe in? Or Seb?’

They went upstairs to her apartment, and she snagged sodas from the refrigerator for them both. Handing one to him, she realized how happy she was to see him and how much like a brother he’d become.

Cal took a long gulp of soda, belching loudly and grinning apologetically. ‘Sorry. To answer your questions, me and Seb were skateboarding this morning; Zoe made us lunch and then they both abandoned me like a poor orphan. Seb’s finally gotten together with Louisa from what I understand.’

Isa looked surprised. ‘He has? About time but why didn’t he tell me himself?’

‘No idea. So, anyway, I thought I might as well wait around for you.’

She grinned and flicked some soda at him. ‘So, I’m an afterthought? Charming.’

He banged his soda can against hers. ‘Never. It’s nice to get some alone time with you, actually. You realize we’ve never hung out, just us two?’

She thought back. The last few months had been such a tumult, such a complete upheaval of her life. ‘Really? That sucks.’ She grinned. ‘Sam’s got a meeting down in San Francisco next week; he’ll be home really late. Come over; we’ll binge-watch on Netflix and eat junk food all night.’

Cal grinned. ‘You know you just got really turned on by vegging out, right?’

She burst out laughing. ‘God, you know me too well, Caleb. So, deal?’

‘Deal.’

‘Other leg.’

Isa lifted her right leg out of the soapy water, rested her foot on the side of the tub. She wrapped her other leg around Sam’s waist. His hands rubbed the lather onto her lower leg, sweeping around the curve of her calf. He loved these quiet moments with her, these little intimacies.

 

When he’d gotten back from the city, drawn and tired from talking with Det. Halsey, she’d made them a delicious stew, which they’d eaten from plates balanced on their laps in front of the television, cold beers on the coffee table in front of them. It was such a little thing, such a simple, ordinary way to spend the evening that the stress of his day left him.

Now, bathing together, his head bent in concentration, he felt her soft lips kissing his wet skin, up the swoop of his neck, behind his ear.

‘Not helping me concentrate,’ he laughed. He rinsed the razor out in the water and stroked it gently over her skin. Isa, relaxed, enjoying his touch, pulled her fingers through the hair on the back of his head, slow, rhythmic.

‘So where you wanna go on vacation? I’m all done here.’ He lifted her leg and curved it around his waist with the other. She leaned forward, kissing his cheek.

‘Thank you, baby. You’ve saved me from going full-Wookie.’

He grinned round at her. ‘You’re welcome. Boobies?’

She snickered and pressed her breasts against his back.

‘Thank you. Hey, look, I’m serious. Let’s go on vacation.’

‘Ok, I’m up for that,’ She drew shapes on his back with the bath foam. ‘Where can we go? India. New Zealand. Oh, Japan. Or the Maldives - one of those little huts that sit right there in the ocean. So many places I’d love to see.’

She reached for the shampoo bottle, smeared some of it on her palm and began to rub it onto his head. Her fingers massaged his scalp, and he sighed happily.

‘We’ll travel the world, my lovely Isa.’

She rinsed his hair then pulled him back to rest against her, her arms crisscrossing across his chest. She nuzzled his ear.

‘I love you, Samuel Levy. I’d go anywhere with you; you know that.’ She was soaping his chest now, working her way down his stomach. He smiled lazily; he knew where she was headed. He felt her chuckle, reading his mind and, dropping the soap, she started to caress his cock.’

‘See this?’ She murmured in his ear as they both watched him become huge, erect under her touch. ‘This belongs to me.’ She ran the tip of her finger around the crest of it, and he moaned.

‘It belongs in you,’ he said and deftly – but with a lot of splashing – twisted them both around, so she was on top of him. She giggled, looking over the side of the tub at the water slopped onto the floor.

‘There is water everywhere,’ but then it was her turn to moan, so beautifully, as his fingers spread the soft lips of her sex apart, exploring the slick hollows of her. Sam kissed her as she took the length of him inside of her, the muscles clenching and massaging him as she moved. His hands spanned her waist, kneaded the silky flesh there – he loved that she wasn’t skin and bones, that there was a pillowy softness to her curves. Her breasts, so full and heavy, moved rhythmically with her, the hard nipples brushing his chest. He caught her mouth with his, the kiss making him heady with desire, and his hands clamped tightly onto her hips, using them to help him push deeper inside her. Her hair tumbled around her shoulders; her face was flushed pink and as she threw her head back, lost, his lips found her throat. Her hands were on his face, pulling his lips to hers as their pace quickened. He felt her body go limp as she came, a second before he felt himself explode, gathering her to him as he groaned. God, he wished this would never stop, this connection, this love. He tightened his arms around her, his hands stroking her skin and feeling her heavy breath on his neck as they calmed down.

The water in the tub was cold by the time they got out, laughing, drying themselves whipping the other with their towels. Sam pulled his jogging pants on, watched as she shrugged in the old t-shirt and shorts combo she wore to lounge around the apartment. The t-shirt, faded pink, had worn hems, a hole in the sleeve but he thought her at her most beautiful when she wore it, her soft face scrubbed clean, her dark hair pulled into a tangled bun at the nape of her neck – well, he thought now, most beautiful when she was dressed. Nothing could compare to her beauty when she was naked. She was watching him watching her, grinning.

‘What are you thinking?’

‘I’m thinking I’m the luckiest son-of-a-bitch in the world.’

She flushed at the compliment, came to stand in front of him as he sat on the edge of the bed. Grinning, he stuck his head up inside her t-shirt and kissed her stomach. She giggled.

‘You goon.’ She pulled her t-shirt up to free him. ‘God, I’m hungry again.’ She padded into the kitchen, and he followed her, tugging his own t-shirt on. She peered into the refrigerator, wrinkling her nose. ‘I don’t know what’s up with my appetite lately. I’m ordering pizza.’

 

At midnight, Isa flicked the t.v. off. Sam was asleep in her arms, his head resting against her breasts, his arms locked around her waist. She stroked his dark hair gently then winced as a stomach cramp hit her.

‘Jeez,’ she breathed, trying to quell the pain without waking Sam. Another one hit and she felt a wave of nausea. She slid out of Sam’s arms as gently as she could, but he opened his eyes, blinked.

‘What’s up?’

She stroked his face. ‘Sssh, go back to sleep. I just have to pee.’

In the bathroom, she bent double as the cramps got worse. She frowned; it couldn’t be her period; she didn’t get them thanks to the IUD. She sat on the edge of the tub, and after a while, they passed, her muscles relaxing and she sighed with relief. She went into the kitchen and drank a glass of water. Her cell phone was on the counter top, flashing. A text. She picked it up. The message had been sent less a minute ago.

You look beautiful in that pink t-shirt. I’d like you to wear it when I kill you.

She gasped, dropping the phone, her panicked gaze shooting towards the window. A dark shadow moved outside of it.

‘SAM!’ She could not help the raw terror as she screamed his name. He was there in an instant.

‘There’s someone out there. He was watching me.’

Sam was at the door. ‘Lock this behind me,’ he ordered as he disappeared through it. She did as she was told, her heart beating wildly. She went to the window, but all she could see was the black night. The silence was deafening, and she started in shock as her cell phone bleeped again.

He shouldn’t leave you alone like that. Anyone could be watching. Anyone with a knife.

Suddenly she was wildly angry. She dialed the number the text came from and to her surprise, whoever it was answered.

‘Fuck you, you creep.’ Her voice was shaking; such was her anger.

‘I’d like you to fuck me, Isabel. Or rather, I’d like to fuck you as I stab you to death.’

He laughed and the sound of his voice, the realness of him, suddenly hit her. He spoke in a hoarse whisper, and she couldn’t work out whether it was real or faked. She didn’t recognize it whatever. ‘Did you like my little calling card? Did you wonder where you got that mysterious cut on your belly? You should have locked your door, you beautiful girl.’

She sank to the floor. ‘Why are you doing this?’

‘Because I want to kill you, lovely Isabel, to feel your precious blood on my hands. Haven’t I made that clear? It won’t be a nick in your skin, next time; it’ll be my knife tearing into you over and over and over again. Enjoy the time you have left.’ He hung up.

Sam banged on the door, and she cried out in terror, whirling around, panicked

‘Sweetheart, it’s me, let me in.’

She yanked open the door and fell sobbing into his arms.

‘He was here…’ she choked out, and Sam’s face was filled with horror, ‘The other night… the night you came home from New York. It was him, he cut me, Oh god… oh God….’

Sam let his hand drift gently down the skin of her bare back. Her face, even in sleep, showed the signs of the stress of the last week. The calls and texts from her would-be-murderer had become ever more graphic until, finally, despite the advice from the police, she’d thrown her phone against the wall and shattered it.

Isa refused to leave her apartment, despite the intruder. ‘That fucker isn’t going to run me out of my own home,’ she raged after Sam had gently suggested they move to his city apartment. But she hadn’t been alone since, and Sam had arranged for all her locks, her windows, and doors to be reinforced. She didn’t object. The thought that her stalker had been close enough to cut her… God. Terrifying.

Sam sighed. He had suggested he cancel his meeting in San Francisco, but Isa had refused.

‘Cal will be here with me,’ she said, then added with a grin, ‘And your robocops will be outside.’

He’d hired security – of course, he had. The only downside was that they’d had to tell Zoe about the death threats. Her reaction was as Isa had expected: complete hysterics. It had taken all four them: Sam, Isa, Seb and Cal to calm her down.

Isa stirred and opened her eyes, smiling sleepily at him. ‘Hey, you.’ Sam kissed her as she turned onto her back to look at him. She glanced over at the clock and made a face.

‘Boo.’ He had to be at the airport in an hour, and Cal and Seb were coming over to pick her up. All three of them were planning to go to the old hospital and start planning the renovations.

Sam smiled, his big hand running down the length of her body. ‘We’ve only got a little time.’ He laughed as she immediately and bossily pushed him onto his back, straddling him.

‘Then you’d better fuck me fast,’ she grinned, and he chuckled, his hands spanning her waist.

‘I think you’re fucking me this time.’

‘You bet your sweet ass.’

He slipped a hand between her legs, his fingers stroking and caressing, parting her already damp bush so she could guide him in. As her soft, wet flesh glided down onto his cock, he moaned at the sensation, the feel of her, the sound of her breathing becoming, short and faster the harder she rode him.

‘God... Isa…’

She was clenching her muscles around his cock, making herself tighter on him, moving her hips against his to take in as much of him as she could. He loved how she was greedy for him to be inside of her, how willing she was to give herself completely to him. They had an unspoken connection and now, as he flipped her onto her back and drove himself harder, deeper inside of her, kissing her roughly, so roughly he could taste blood.

‘God, Sam…. never let me go….’ She cried out as she came, her body shuddering and shivering. Even in her delirium, she tightened her legs around his waist, urging him on to his own explosive climax. As he collapsed onto her, he kissed her.

‘Never. I promise. I’ll never let you go.’

Isa could still feel the slight tremble of her legs a few hours later, exploring the new gallery site with her brother and Cal. Now, though, she wasn’t sure if it was the after effects of her mind-blowing orgasm or the fact that the stomach cramps had returned with a vengeance. Already, they’d had to stop along the way at a 7-Eleven to get some Pepto Bismol. The cramps had brought with them serious nausea and a blinding headache.

She tried to keep up a façade, knowing the boys were eager to start planning the new development but after an hour, she felt so dog-tired and sick she couldn’t hide it anymore.

‘I’m so sorry; I’m a real party-pooper.’ Cal and Seb had insisted on taking her home, and now as their car boarded the ferry, Seb turned around, looking at his sister, his eyes worried.

‘I can cancel tonight with Louisa if you want.’ Louisa was the girl he’d been mooning over for weeks and finally asked out. Isa smiled, shaking her head.

‘No way. I’ll be fine; it’s just a virus or something. Cal will be with me.’

‘Raiding her fridge and drinking her beer,’ Cal agreed with a grin.

 

As soon as they got home, though, she barely made it to the bathroom before she threw up.

‘Maybe I should call a doctor.’ Cal, his usual merriment gone, his expression concerned. Isa took another swig of Pepto, wincing at the taste and shook her head. ‘No, it’s okay, it’ll pass.’

She curled up on the sofa and patted the chair next to her. Cal sat down, but he looked unconvinced. ‘Really, Isa, your color isn’t good. Unless you were aiming for the Grinch.’

She grinned and kicked him. Not a good idea. Her belly lurched and cramped, and she sat forward, rocking to ease it. He rubbed her back. ‘Maybe you should get into bed, sleep it off.’

Reluctantly she nodded but smiled weakly at him. ‘I feel bad for ruining our chill out session.’

Cal grinned. ‘You owe me. Don’t worry about it; you have the rest of your life to make it up to me.’

 

Isa swung her legs over the side of the bed and tried to stand. Her legs gave way, and she collapsed in a heap. The pain in her belly was worse than she’d ever experienced in her life, a burning, breath-taking agony.

‘Jesus.’ She whispered. She crawled back up onto the bed. Pain screeched around her head, feeling like the worst hangover she’d ever had, her limbs felt like jelly, the burning pain in her abdomen getting worse with every breath. What the hell was wrong with her?

She pulled herself out of bed and went into the bathroom. The room swayed, and she grabbed the toilet and threw up. She heard Cal bang on the door and groaned.

‘Isa? Isa, are you okay?’

He knocked at the door. She let him in.

‘Sweetheart?’ He smoothed her hair away from her face. She sat on the edge of the bath, her head whirling. She felt her stomach contract and bent over the toilet again. He held her hair away from her face and rubbed her back. Too sick to feel embarrassed, she slid down onto the floor.

‘Perhaps I should get you a doctor.’ Cal put his arm around her. She nodded her head.

‘I think you’re right. I’m glad you’re here, Cal.’

He smiled and kissed her forehead. ‘Me too, little one.’

For a moment, she pretended he was Sam, that she could just lean into him, that he would protect her from everything that hurt, the way Sam always did. His arms tightened around her when he felt her relax against him.

‘Perhaps you ought to go back to bed?’

She shook her head. ‘No. I don’t want to go back to bed. I need to shower if the doctor’s coming.’

‘Will you be okay?’

She nodded. He didn’t look convinced.

‘I’m worried you’ll fall. Look, shut the bathroom door, but I’ll sit out here. If you need me, just holler. Don’t be shy; we’re family now.’

He put her down on her feet, and she steadied herself against the sink.

‘Okay.’ She had no intention of calling him, but a small part of her was grateful to know he was there. He smiled and went out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

The room whirled, and she sat down again, sucking in great lungfuls of air. The dark spots at the corner of her eyes receded. Maybe she was sick. But this felt like nothing she’d felt before. The pain, the fatigue, the nausea. It was overwhelming.

She reached behind her and turned the shower on. She stripped off and stood under the water. It helped. She washed her hair, scrubbed at her body and tried not to think about the roiling, searing pain in her stomach. She turned the hot water off and let the cold sting her body, desperately to distract herself. She could feel herself sinking again, the black haze in her eyes had returned. She tried to get some air into her lungs, but her chest felt so tight, too tight.

 

‘Help me.’ She whispered but then she could feel herself slipping, falling, losing control. Her head made contact with the porcelain sink and a bright burst of white pain hit and then there was just darkness.

 

Sam threw the room key down on the desk, checked his watch. It was after midnight but he knew Isa would be up, waiting for his call. He pictured her now, television blaring, laughing with Cal about something, both of them scarfing down pizza, chips and sodas. She was probably sketching away, her fingers covered with pastel dust, smudges of it on her cheeks as she worked.

Sam smiled to himself and switched on his phone. His heart stopped as he saw the amount of missed calls from Cal, the messages. He clicked on one.

Call me now. Urgent.

The phone in his hotel room jangled loudly, and he picked it up.

‘Sorry about the late hour sir, but we have your brother on the line. He says it’s an emergency.’

Oh God…

‘Put him through. Cal? What the hell…’

‘Isa’s had an accident,’ Cal choked out. ‘She was feeling sick, had some stomach pains. She was in the shower, and I went to call the doctor. She fell, hit her head…’

Sam felt a sledgehammer had hit his gut.

‘Cal… what the… where is she? Is she…?’

His brother was sobbing now. ‘We’re at the UW Medical Center. ‘Isa’s in intensive care. She has serious head injuries. God, Sam, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, you left her in my care and I…’ He couldn’t go on.

Sam couldn’t breathe for a second. ‘Cal… it’s okay, calm down. Tell me what the doctors said.’ He was throwing his things into his overnight bag as he listened, with growing horror to what his brother told him. Please, Isa, no…

‘They say…Sam… I don’t know. I don’t know. She hasn’t woken up yet; they can’t wake her up.’

 

So many, many staircases.

It seemed to Sam, at that moment, that they had been put there to torment him, as if he needed further torment. Y’all can’t use the elevator, they’re out, someone had screeched from behind the hospital reception and Sam took off, taking the stairs three at a time.

Isa. Oh God, Isa.

Finally, he reached the intensive care unit. He saw Cal talking to a nurse and shouted his name. Cal turned and walked quickly to them. His face was hard, strained.

‘Sam.’

‘Where is she?’

‘They’ve taken her down for a scan.’

‘Is she awake, is she talking?’

Cal shook his head.

‘Jesus, oh, Jesus.’ This time, Sam’s legs did betray him, and Cal grabbed him and pushed him into a seat. Sam put in his head in his hands, briefly and then looked up.

‘Tell me everything.’

Cal sat down beside him, his shoulders slumping and Sam could see the great strain on his face.

‘She was sick, really sick. We were at the Sacred Heart, and she tried to hide it, but Seb and I could see she was in pain. Her stomach kept cramping, really bad like she was bent double when they hit.’ He sighed. ‘I took her back to her apartment, and she went to bed. I stayed on the couch. About three a.m., she got sick again. I persuaded her to call a doctor, which is what I did while she took a shower. She must have fainted because I heard a crash.’ Sam watched as his brother’s face paled recalling the accident. ‘I went in when she wouldn’t answer and found her. She’d hit her head on the sink, was bleeding pretty bad. I couldn’t wake her. That’s when I got Zoe, and we called 911.’

Sam looked around. ‘Where is Zoe?’

‘Talking to the doctor.’

They both looked up as Zoe turned the corner and came towards them. Sam’s heart began to thud, and his blood froze when he saw the stricken expression on her face.

‘Zoe…’

Zoe hugged him fiercely. ‘It’s okay, Sam, she’s going to be okay.’ She sat down with him. ‘I need to talk to you.’ She cast a meaningful look at Cal, who nodded and melted away. Zoe took Sam’s hand.

‘Sam… Isa’s started to come around. She’s had a CT scan, and there’s no brain bleed or anything to worry about. The doctor thinks she’s just got a bad concussion.’

Sam felt relief sweep through him, but he could tell Zoe wasn’t finished and was struggling with how to tell him what she knew.

 

‘Whatever it is, Zo, just tell me. I can’t bear not knowing.’

Zoe drew in a deep breath, looked at him with worry in her eyes. ‘Sam… they found out what was making Isa so ill. It’s an ectopic pregnancy, Sam. Isa’s pregnant.’

Sam rocked back, ran his hand through his hair, tried desperately to keep control of his emotions. ‘Did she know?’

Zoe shook her head. ‘No. They’ve taken her to surgery now, and I’m sorry but…’

‘I know. I know, Zoe, you don’t have to say it. The fetus isn’t going to make it.’

Zoe winced at his terminology, but to Sam, it was necessary to try and detach his emotions so he wouldn’t scream. His baby. Their baby. He dropped his head into his hands for a brief second.

‘How did she take it? Isa, I mean, what was her reaction when they told her?’

Zoe tried to smile. ‘Pretty much the same as yours. Shock. Sorrow.’ She put her arms around his shoulders. ‘They’ll come and tell us when she’s out of surgery.’

Slowly, too slowly, the light began to creep in under her eyelids. She’d been able to hear them since yesterday, talking about her. Talking about conditions and injuries and ‘letting her brain heal itself.’ Voices she didn’t know. And those she did.

Sam. He sounded upset, and she wanted to hold him and tell him everything was okay.

But she couldn’t open her eyes. Where was she? She felt like she was having to work twice as hard to make sense of anything.

The only thing she was sure of was that she hurt. This morning she’d been able to feel her hands, at last, move the fingers. Her skin felt odd, too dry, and too smooth. She rubbed her fingers against each other. The Voices had liked that, lot of back slapping, reassurance, and tears. She felt someone else’s fingers wind through hers and she knew that skin. Knew it.

Sam. She felt his tears against her cheek, his kiss.

The light was getting brighter – with much effort, she pulled her eyes open. Sticky, gluey. She blinked. For a second she watched the dust particles float around the wash of tears that swept across the surface. She concentrated on focusing past them, to the ceiling.

She sighed.

A chair scraping back. ‘Sweetheart?’

His voice made warmth flood through her frozen body, made her limbs soften and spread. ‘Sam?’

He leaned over and finally, she could see his handsome face, deep lines etched in his forehead, dark shadows under his eyes. She cupped his cheek in her palm.

‘Hey, you.’

His lips against hers were gentle at first then, as tears began to pour down her face, they grew rougher, almost desperate, trying to erase the sadness. But the pounding grief within her couldn’t be tamped down, and as she began to sob in earnest, Sam gathered her into his arms and held her as she cried for their lost child.

 

‘How long have I been out?’

One of the nurses had bought them both coffee and sandwiches. Isa picked unenthusiastically at the food, her whole body dropping with fatigue and sadness. Sam had no appetite either, and eventually, he pushed the table away from the bed, moving so he could hold her. She rested her head against his chest, her arm slipping around his waist.

‘Only a day or so.’

From the earlier tears, now Isa had mostly fallen silent, lost in introspection. Sam stroked her hair. His own feelings were in turmoil, so much so he just wanted to block everything out and hold her.

He felt her body relax, her breathing became even and knew she’d fallen asleep. There was a soft knock at the door, and Cal stuck his head in the door. Sam slipped carefully from the bed; Isa didn’t even stir.

‘How’s she doing?’

Sam shrugged. ‘Hard to say. She’s too tired to take it all in, I think.’

Cal studied his older half-brother. ‘And what about you?’

Sam tried to smile. ‘Cal, I have no idea, it’s all been too… hell, a couple of months ago, I was single, working my ass off and now I’ve met the love of my life, who some asshole wants to murder, and we’re mourning the loss of the child that neither of us knew we wanted or in fact, had even discussed having.’

Cal considered. ‘Well…I’d say that was a full schedule.’ He risked a smile at Sam, who returned it ruefully.

‘Yep. Look, let’s go find some decent coffee. Isa will be out for hours; she’s wiped out.’ 

It was eerily quiet in the hospital at night. She’d woken a little while ago, but stayed still, listening to the alien sounds. The beeping of machines, hushed whispers of the night staff, occasional moans from the other rooms on the floor. Facing her, asleep in a chair, Sam looked exhausted and, she thought, tormented. A gnawing feeling of guilt started in her stomach. She hated to see him distressed like this. Stupid, stupid women, she berated herself. How the hell hadn’t she guessed she was pregnant? It explained the mood swings, the appetite, the sickness. She had an IUD; she’d never even considered she could be pregnant. Stop it. She didn’t want to think about it anymore, didn’t want to feel that pain.

She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She stretched, enjoying the feel of her limbs working. Sam was dead to the world; his head leaned against the wall. She looked around, grabbed a blanket and covered him, kissing his forehead.

 

There were no nurses around in the gynecological wing. Isa peered into each room. At the far end, there was a light on. She headed towards it, stepped into the room…

…and everything went cold. The light was blue, freezing. The bed had a curtain around it, but she peaked inside and saw him. Him. His face was obscured, by what she couldn’t tell, suddenly her vision was hazy, blurry. But she knew, without a doubt, he had come to kill her. He raised the knife and the blue light glinted off of it.

‘Time to die, little girl.’

Isa backed off, turned and ran. She could hear his footsteps behind her, pursuing, hunting. In her panic she turned the wrong way into a labyrinth of corridors, she didn’t recognize. She skidded along the polished floors, trying each door, desperate for a hiding place. She almost cried out with relief when the last door opened. She darted into a room, surgical equipment and supplies. She crouched down behind a laundry bin, her breathing shaky. If he cornered her in here, alone, unprotected and unobserved, he’d kill her. She reached up and grabbed a scalpel from the shelf. Then she heard him call her name.

‘Isa? It’s okay. It’s only me. Don’t be afraid, Isa. I love you.’

And as if she couldn’t control herself, she stood. It was the love in his voice that made her do it, made her drift towards him, let him kiss her softly before his knife tore into her again… again…

She screamed then there were hands on her. Sheer terror. She panicked, fighting with whoever it was, screaming, incoherent, and desperate. She bucked and twisted, frantic to get away.

‘Isa, baby it’s me, it’s me, it’s okay, you were dreaming, it’s okay.’

Something got through. She knew that voice. She stopped struggling. His arms were around her, not stabbing, not killing but calming, protecting. Love.

 

‘Sam?’ Her voice was a rough whisper.

‘Baby, it’s me. I’ve got you, it’s okay, you’re safe, you’re safe.’

Isa shoved her pajamas into her hold all, casting hopeful glances at the door. Sam was sitting, relaxed, grinning at her.

‘I think you think you can wish yourself out of this place. He might say no.’

She stuck her tongue out at him. ‘You’ll jinx me. Shut up.’ She was already dressed, her normal uniform, t-shirt, jeans, sneakers. Despite her cuts and bruises, she looked like his Isa again. She smiled at him.

‘Think of it this way,’ she went over to him and straddled him. ‘The quicker the doc says I’m healing, the quicker I get out of here…’ She leaned in and kissed him. ‘And the quicker you get some, soldier.’

His answering laugh was filthy, and she danced away from his arms. ‘Tease.’ She grinned and went into the bathroom to grab her wash-bag. When she came back, she saw his face had changed. He stared out of the window.

‘Sam?’ He looked at her and smiled, but she could see something in his eyes. ‘What is it?’

He held his arms out, and she went into them, perching on his lap. ‘What?’

He sighed. ‘Darlin’, I can’t know what’s going on your head, since the… But there’s no rush. I’m probably saying all the wrong things, but I can wait. Until, y’know, you are ready. However, long. And that’s not to say I don’t want you, I do...’ he grinned, ‘I really, really do. But you and I, it’s always been more than just sex. And we need to talk, properly about what’s happening between us. We need to have that talk.’

She crushed her mouth against his, hard, longingly and he could feel her tears on his cheeks.

‘I can’t even tell you…’ She broke down, and he tightened his grip.

‘No need for words. Not yet anyway.’

She smiled at him, nodded. ‘Just thank you.’ She kissed him again. He grinned.

‘No problem.’

‘Knock, knock.'

The doctor came in, Isa’s charts in his hand.

‘How are you today, Isabel?’

‘Very, very good.’ She looked at him hopefully. Sam grinned.

The doctor smiled at her. ‘Okay, I’m releasing you.’

Isa cheered, and the doctor laughed. ‘On the condition that you take it easy for a few days.’

Isa rolled her eyes. ‘Yeah yeah.’

‘Oh, she will.’ Sam was firm. ‘Thanks for everything, Doc.’

The doctor stood up to go. ‘For now, I’m going to reduce the dosage on your anti-depressants, just while you recover from the concussion.’

 

Isa frowned. ‘I’m not taking antidepressants.’

Dr. Field stopped, confused. ‘I’m sorry?’

‘I’m not taking anti-depressants.’

Sam and the doctor looked at each other.

‘Honey, they found them in your blood… I think it was…’ Sam raised his eyebrows at the doctor.

‘Effexor. A substantial dose.’

‘I swear; I haven’t been taking any.’ Isa was getting a little irritated.

‘Have you ever?’

‘Have I ever what?’

‘Been prescribed anti-depressants?’

‘No, never.’ She felt Sam’s hand tighten on hers. She squeezed back to reassure him. ‘You say there was this drug, in my bloodstream?’

The doctor nodded. ‘We just assumed, because of what Mr. Levy said you had been going through lately.’

Isa chewed her lip. ‘Doctor, would this drug… I mean, would it have any side effects? I mean, tiredness, forgetfulness?’

‘Has that been happening to you?’

She nodded. ‘How easy it is to get hold of it without a prescription?’

The doctor smiled uneasily. ‘I’m sure it’s available through less than reputable sources, why?’

‘How easy would it be to drug somebody without their knowledge?’

Sam made a disgusted noise. ‘Fuck.’

The doctor looked between them, worried. ‘Easily. I hope to hell that isn’t what happened.’

Sam stood up, his temper flaring. He walked over to the window, and Isa could see the tension rolling off him. She turned to the doctor.

‘I’m afraid that is what must have happened.’ She looked at Sam’s back, seeing how the muscles were bunched up in anger. ‘To put it bluntly, doctor, someone has been threatening to kill me. He’s broken into my home; god knows what else he’s done. This must have been him.’

‘But why?’

Isa smiled, exhausted. ‘I really don’t know.’ She sighed but held out her hand to the doctor and shook his. ‘Thanks for everything, really, I mean it.’

 

In the car on the way home, she put her hand on Sam’s thigh as he drove. He smiled at her.

‘You okay, baby?’

‘Wiped out, same as you.’

He slid his free hand over her belly. ‘Are you sore?’

‘Not so much,’ she entwined her fingers with his, ‘the doctor gave me some painkillers.’

Sam grinned over at her. ‘You got the good shit, huh?’

She laughed and the sound of it eased the tightness which had seemed to have settled permanently in his chest.

‘Hey,’ he said now, running his finger down her cheek, ‘when you’re better, I’m taking you away. A client of mine has an island – ‘

‘Show off.’

He grinned but continued undeterred. ‘You’ll be mad, but I’ve already talked to Sandy. Yes, I know…’ She made a face at him.

‘Sam, I’m never there as it is! It’s not fair to Sandy, to the college… oh, what’s the point?’ She slumped back in the seat, all fight gone from her. Sam glanced over at her still, frozen face.

‘You mad?’

She was quiet for a time then gave him a little smile. ‘I guess not. If I'm honest, the idea of going far, far away from here at the moment sounds like heaven.’ She squeezed his hand. ‘As long as you’re there with me.’

‘Every second. We both could do with a break.’

Sandy came to see her a few days later, and as they sat on her couch, she thought he looked different. She couldn’t place what it was until he was talking about his recent successful funding application.

‘Sandy… is that a new suit?’

Sandy, his kind face beaming, nodded. ‘Glad you noticed.’ He leaned forward conspiratorially. ‘I’ve been influenced by your boyfriend. How does a man look like that? All the time, too.’

Isa smothered a smile. ‘Makes the rest of us look bad, huh?’

Sandy rolled his eyes. ‘I’d thought I’d make an effort for once – not competing, honestly, because let’s face it, I’d lose.’ His words were said with a smile. Isa leaned over to hug him.

‘I wouldn’t change you for the world. Now, listen, I know Sam’s spoken with you…’

‘About the sabbatical? Yes, I told him it’s no problem. We’re at the end of the research cycle anyway. We can start again in the spring as he suggested.’

Isa was floored. A sabbatical? What happened to the two-week vacation? A sabbatical until the Spring? She looked out of the window at the gray winter clouds scuttling over the island and sighed. She had no doubt that Sam must have made a substantial ‘donation’ to make this happen; Sandy would never have let her take months off otherwise, nor should he.

But she just didn’t have it in her to fight this, however much her feminist sensibilities argued with her. For once, she would let Sam win. For once she would let him take care of her.

When Sandy had left, however, as she was drifting around her apartment, tidying things that didn’t need tidying, an idea came to her, and she started smiling to herself. She checked the clock – Sam would be back from work in an hour. She peeked out of the window at the security men he’d hired to watch over her when he wasn’t there. They were alert, scanning all the time for any potential threats. She grinned to herself. I hope you’re not easily shocked, she thought to herself. Sam was going to get the surprise of his life when he got home.

Sam closed the door to the eerily quiet apartment. ‘Isa?’ He put his briefcase down on the kitchen counter.

‘In here.’ He looked towards the bedroom, hearing her voice call him, soft, loving. He began to walk towards it, pulling at his tie, when he heard her speak again. ‘Leave your clothes on. All of them.’

He grinned. What was she up to? He opened the door to find her standing there, gloriously naked, her long dark hair flowing over her shoulders, covering her beautiful breasts. He could only stand there drinking her in, the breakneck curves of her hips, the soft swell of her belly, down to the dark triangle of hair covering her sex. Her skin was glowing, her eyes sleepily lust-filled as she walked slowly to him. She stood on her tiptoes to brush her lips against his. ‘Welcome home, my love.’

He reached for her, but she gripped his arms and pulled them down to his side, firm, decisive.

‘I…’ and she looked up at him from beneath the thick dark eyelashes he loved so much, ‘...am in charge now. No talking.’ She added as he opened his mouth to speak. ‘I get to do all the talking, Samuel.’ She nuzzled his neck, nipping at his earlobe with her teeth. Sam breathed her in, her fresh scent, her salt skin, the heady spice of her perfume. His cock twitched and jerked, the blood pulsing beneath his skin as she very slowly removed his tie, started to unbutton his shirt. She pushed the fabric apart and attacked him, her teeth latching onto his nipple, making him gasp at the quick pain, her fingers gliding down his abdomen to unbutton his pants. Sam closed his eyes as she freed his cock from his underwear, her little hands gripping the length of it as it hardened, sending waves of pleasure through him. He swayed when he felt her lips glide over the crest of it, her tongue teasing the tip. He felt bereft when she stopped, heard her speak.

‘Do you like that, Samuel?’

He nodded, his hands automatically reaching for her. Again, she pushed them down to his sides. He opened his eyes. Christ, she was beautiful, smiling up at him with that lazy smile.

‘You make me so wet,’ she whispered, and his cock stiffened painfully at her words, but he risked speaking.

‘You can’t yet… the doctor…’

She slid her fingers over his lips to silence him.

‘I know. But it’s not me that’s getting fucked tonight, Samuel.’ She ran her tongue up his chest to his throat, caught his mouth with hers. ‘It’s you…’

Moving quickly, she gripped his hips and shoved him onto the bed. Sam fell back hard and then she was on him, straddling him, wincing slightly at the pull on her tender abdomen.

‘Put your hands above your head.’ She had his tie in her hand and bound his wrists to the headboard. Sam felt his whole body respond to the feel of her skin on his. She smiled, slid down so she could grip his cock, her hands gently pulling and kneading the thickening shaft.

‘I’m going to make you come so hard, baby,’ and then her mouth was on him again, her tongue rimming the tip, lashing around the thickness of him. Sam groaned and bucked under her touch, the pleasure almost painful. He felt her start suckle at him, her cheeks hollowing and her hands fisting the root of him. His cock seemed to expand, swell beyond what he’d ever experienced. She took it deep into her mouth, working her tongue around it, grazing it lightly with her teeth, moving up and down the shaft, driving him wild with every movement.

‘Christ… Isa…’

He couldn’t help the scream as, unbelievably she made him harder still, so hard that he felt dizzy. Her hands went to his hips, her fingernails digging into his flesh almost painfully. He bucked, driving himself into her mouth harder and harder as she sucked, her tongue moving faster around the tip as he began to come, thick, hot spurts pumping out of him. He desperately wanted to fuck her, drive his cock into her sex but he couldn’t do anything as she used her whole body weight to pin his legs to the bed, his hands bound, completely at her mercy. He shuddered and groaned as the semen pumped into her mouth, the realization that she was swallowing him down, wanting to taste him, milk him making his heart swell with love. It seemed he would never stop coming under her touch, but when finally, he was spent and she smiled up at him.

 

‘You’re still hard, my darling.’ And he was, his cock still so sensitive under her touch, she slid up the bed to kiss his mouth, and with one hand, gripped the top of his cock, gliding the crest of it along the cleft of her sex.

‘Feel how wet I am for you, baby,’ and she was, sodden and juicy.

‘I want to touch you.’ He felt drunk on her, enchanted, possessed, obsessed by her. He wanted to put his cock into her, wanting to come inside her, fill her, nail her to the bed. He never wanted to move from this place. Isa smiled at his frenzied delirium, moving to rub his cock along her belly, circling her navel with the tip. He couldn’t stop staring as she dipped it into her navel, felt himself start to climax again, pumping the hot, sticky liquid onto her belly. He could see that turned her on and leaning over; she freed his arms. One hand went automatically to part her thighs, slide into the soft peach of her sex, caressing and kneading the small nub of her clitoris. She shivered with pleasure but kept a firm grip on his cock, moving around so he could touch her while she captured his long shaft between her pillowy soft breasts, moving her body, so it glided between them. Sam moaned and gripped her hips, burying his face in her sex, his tongue delving into her as deep as he could. He was very aware of not hurting her, but all he wanted to do was fuck her senseless. As he was reaching his peak again, she pulled away, her face flushed with pleasure. She moved so she could she could watch him as he came, as he bucked under her, spurting thick creamy liquid onto her skin. He was utterly powerless under her touch, and he could tell from the triumphant look on her face that was what she had intended. As he slowly came down from the impossible high, he pulled her to him, kissing her so deeply they were both soon gasping for air.

‘You’re incredible.’ He nuzzled her neck, sweeping his hands under the hair at the nape of her neck. Her soft lips found his again, and this time, the kiss was mellow, tender, melting, with every cell in his body aching for her. ‘God, I love you so much, Isabel Flynn.’

She grinned at him. ‘Isabel Eleanor Flynn.’

That confused him. ‘Huh?’

She smiled. ‘My middle name is Eleanor. I never told you that. Which brings me to my point. I’ll agree to your security men, you arranging a ‘sabbatical’ with my boss without consulting me…’ Sam grinned sheepishly at that one, and she playfully smacked his arm.

‘I’ll even agree to your luxury private island vacation – because I’m not insane, who would turn that down?’ She chuckled with him at that. ‘But here’s my condition.’

 

Her face grew serious, and Sam felt a prickle of unease as she continued. ‘All this, us, the gallery, the death threats, an unexpected pregnancy and we don’t even know each other’s middle names. We don’t know the dreams or hopes we had when we were kids or what it was like growing up, or where we grew up or… I could go on. We’ve never discussed…’ and her voice broke a little and she took a deep, shaky breath in. Sam tightened his arms around her, sensing she needed to say whatever was hurting her. She rested her cheek against his bare chest. ‘We’ve never discussed whether we want children.’ He felt her body relax after she said it. He pressed his lips to her forehead.

‘We can talk about that,’ he said slowly, ‘we can talk about anything you want to.’

She pulled away from him so she could study his eyes. ‘It might be painful.’

He smiled softly. ‘Probably. But God, it’s worth it. I want to know you, Isabel Eleanor Flynn. Every part of you.’

She grinned wickedly. ‘I think you know my parts pretty well.’ She leaned in to kiss him, running her tongue along the seam of his bottom lip. ‘I love you.’

His hands were on the back of her head then, holding her tightly as he kissed her, his mouth rough on hers. ‘God, I want to be inside you so badly.’

He felt her lips curve into a smile against his. ‘Soon, my Sam, soon.’

 

She was back. He smiled when he saw her through the window. He used the lens to zoom in on her. To him, seeing her injured, seeing her face, still bruised, the cuts still had butterfly stitches on them only made her more beautiful, made him imagine how she would look when he killed her.

But for now, she looked happy. He frowned. Why wasn’t she crippled with terror? He hated the fact that something out of his control had nearly taken her away from him. He was the one who would end her life; him, and him alone.

His stomach twisted. The need to feel her blood on his hands was becoming overwhelming. But perhaps a lull in his campaign was what was needed. He began to smile. If she and Sam were allowed to relax, begin to believe that they would live happily ever after, the horror, the pain he would wreak on them would only be intensified. He closed his eyes and stuck his hand in his pants, picturing it now…

She tried desperately to push the knife away, but he was too strong. He had turned it around so now the blade curved up towards her. He put all of his weight on top of the blade, and she was no match. The tip of the blade pressed into her bare skin. Sam, bound tightly to the chair, was screaming through the gag in his mouth, his face terrified, grief-stricken.

He smiled as the blade tore into her belly again and again and her blood sprayed across his face. Isa was paralyzed by the pain. Sam was sobbing. As she lay dying, he stood and went to Sam. Grabbing Sam’s hair, he pulled his head back and drew the knife across his throat. Kicking the chair over, he arranged them, so they were facing each other, watching the other die. Sam screamed as he watched the life go from his love’s eyes…

He came grunting and sobbing, his semen pumping over his hand and he imagined, instead, that it was her blood, hot and viscous, as she bled out under his knife.

It was the most powerful orgasm of his life.

 

The tiny plane landed smoothly on the island’s runway, coasting to a stop at what could generously be described as a shack. Despite its simple construct, the airport terminal was staffed with kind and efficient staff and soon Sam and Isa were in the cab, their bags safely stowed in the truck. Isa noted how the staff greeted Sam like an old friend, slapping his back and laughing with him. Sam introduced her to some of them, and their friendly, merry faces made her smile as they made a fuss of her. Sam was obviously a frequent visitor, and with a pang, she wondered if he had brought any previous girlfriends to the island. She pushed the thought away and grinned at Sam as he squeezed her hand, his excitement written on his handsome face.

The heat was dry and kissed every part of her as they traveled across the island, the windows of the cab wide open. Sam had his arm around her shoulder and had settled her against his chest, her leg thrown casually over his. The island itself was stunning, the lush green volcanic hills, the pops of color alongside the roadside; hibiscus, orchids, bougainvillea. Isa had never seen so many beautiful colors, her artistic sensibilities going into overdrive. She looked at Sam with shining eyes.

‘Damn, I should have brought my art supplies with me.’

Sam laughed and held her tighter, nuzzling her hair, his lips at her ear. ‘You’re going to be too busy for that.’

Isa giggled, shooting a look at the driver. She turned to kiss Sam. ‘Just what do you think I will be doing?’

 

She kept her voice low, looking up at from beneath her lashes, knowing it drove him mad. He pulled her onto his lap, and she could feel his cock, already stiff and ready through the denim of his jeans. She slid her hand onto it, feeling the heft, the thickness of it. It had been a long few weeks, abstaining from penetrative sex while she healed from the surgery, and all she’d been able to think of, even during the frenetic week of packing and arrangements, was having him inside her. God, I want you so badly… she stifled a gasp as Sam, grinning, his green eyes lustful as his fingers slid inside the edge of her panties and he started to stroke her clit. She leaned her head into his neck, keeping her increasingly ragged breaths low and quiet.

‘The minute, the second, we get to the villa,’ Sam murmured against her ear, ‘I’m going to tear every stitch of clothing from your glorious body, kiss every part of that honey skin, spread your soft, soft thighs and fuck you so hard, they’ll hear you screaming the other side of the island.’

Isa buried her face in his neck, breathing hard as the pressure on her clit increased, gasping as he slipped a finger inside of her. She felt herself swell and dampen at his touch, looked up into his eyes to find him looking at her with such intensity it made her stomach disappear. The amused look had left his eyes and his eyes were dark with desire, with arousal. The angles of his face seemed more pronounced, the beautiful curve of his lips, the aquiline nose, and the high peaks of his razor sharp cheekbones. He looked almost frightening, the ferocity of his love for her a burning, all-consuming thing. The beauty of the island could not compare to him, she thought, lost in his gaze. She felt otherworldly when he looked at her like that and God… she wanted him so badly it hurt.

‘How long until we get to the villa?’ She whispered, and he smiled, breaking the lines of his face into softness. He nodded towards the windshield.

‘We’re here, Isabel Eleanor.’ The way he said her name made her want to cry with happiness.

 

The driver helped Sam bring their bags in, nodded politely and left. Isa stood in the wide hallway, waiting, knowing what Sam wanted. As soon as the door closed, he was tearing at her clothes, pulling her dress over her head, biting down on her bare shoulders. She was gasping as he stripped her and when she was naked, he swept her down to the cool tile. It felt good against her hot skin.

‘I’m sorry,’ Sam was breathing hard as he unzipped his jeans to reveal his magnificent cock, already so hard for her, moisture glistening at the tip. ‘I need to be inside you now.’

He tugged her legs around his hips and thrust into her. She cried out at the quick pain, thrusting herself onto him, trying to take all of him inside her. The fact she was naked while he was still fully dressed was an incredible turn on; she felt so completely at his mercy. She angled her hips so he could take her easily, driving the long thick shaft deeper into her with every stroke. His expression was as in the cab; intense, focused on her entirely. His thrusts were brutal, impaling her onto him, his hands clamped on her hips, fingers biting into the soft flesh. They moved against each other with a rabid desperation, her legs wrapped around him, thighs clenching with the effort to sink him deeper into her. As they both neared the end, Sam pinned her hands above her head with one hand, using the other to tilt her hips so that he could move against the hypersensitive nerve in her sex.

‘Sam... Oh my God… Sam!’ Her back arched, her belly pressed into his as the shattering orgasm flooded through her, followed by another and another in quick succession, the hot rush of her climax flooding down over his impossibly hard penis then she felt another rush of heat as Sam groaned, a guttural, animal sound ripping from him as he came, thrusting as his semen shot into her violently. The sound of it made her come for the fourth time, and she tightened her grip on him, never wanting him to pull away from her. Sam panted for air but he was still rock hard and as he began to thrust again, their eyes locked. The rest of the world did not exist then, just this inexorable, searing, feral love.

After they’d collapsed beside each other on the floor, dragging air back into their exhausted lungs, they looked at each other and started laughing. Isa rolled onto her side, kissed him and laid her head on his chest for a second before looking up into his eyes.

‘God, I’ve missed that.’

Sam chuckled, running his fingertips up and down her spine. ‘What have you missed exactly?’

She grinned wickedly and clambered onto all fours, crawling up his body. She kissed him firmly then whispered. ‘Your huge, magnificent cock plowing me into oblivion.’

They both collapsed into laughter then she straddled him, a look of mock concern on her face. ‘You have too many clothes on for this heat.’

He grinned up at her lazily as she pushed his t-shirt up over his head then stripped the rest of his clothes off. She lay back down, and he cradled her in his arms. ‘I love you, Sam Levy.’ She looked up and smiled. ‘Samuel Alexander Levy.’

He kissed the top of her head. ‘So… welcome to the island. Want a tour of the villa?’

She considered. Seeing the villa meant moving and moving meant leaving the comfort of his arms and he was so conveniently naked right now. She cupped his already hardening cock, and he laughed, a low rumble which vibrated through his massive chest. She kissed him again.

‘Later, baby. I need to take the tour of your body right now.’

She straddled him again, gripping his cock and tracing it up and down her sex, teasing him into delirium until he was begging her to take him inside her. She lowered herself onto him, oh-so-slowly, taking just the tip inside herself then stopping, grinning as he groaned with anticipation. He grew harder still as she glided down the length of him. Sam reached up, pinched the sensitive nipples, and she moaned. As she began to rock her hips, sliding up and down his thickening cock, his fingertips drifted down her stomach, and as they touched her belly, she drew in a shaky breath, her muscles contracting under his touch. Sam smiled, knowing that when he circled her belly button with his thumbs – as he was doing now – it drove her nearly insane with excitement.

Later, when they’d exhausted each other, she threw her dress back on and let him lead her through the villa. The one level house had large, light, airy rooms and Isa padded around in her bare feet, taking in every detail. In the living room, the book-lined walls, the simple decor, the huge white squashy sofas, the table crafted from driftwood – it was so simple, yet the place radiated old money, luxury. Over the fireplace – the incongruous fireplace considering the heat – hung her painting, the one Sam had bought the night they met. She studied it for a few moments and turned to him, her eyes shining.

Sam smiled. ‘It traveled with us.’

Isa grinned, reaching up to kiss him. ‘This is your place, right? Not a clients. It’s yours, the house?’

Sam hesitated for a moment then smiled sheepishly. ‘The island.’

Isa rocked back. ‘Holy fuck balls…’ She gazed up at Sam, and a small curl of unease started to wind through her. ‘Sam…who the fuck owns an island?’

She had never felt out of her depth with him before; she knew he was wealthy, of course, but a freaking island?

Sam put his arms around her. ‘It was my dad’s. He left it to me and Cal. Really, we should sell it, but I couldn’t bear to. My mom loved it here. Before she died, we used to have every vacation here. Don’t be freaked out.’

Isa put her palms flat against his bare chest and blew out her cheeks. ‘It’s a lot, though, Sam.’

‘I know. But Isa… it’s just money. What means the most to me, is that I’ve only ever been here with people I love, with women I love. You, and my mom. That means something so bone deep for me I can’t even begin to…’

She stopped him with a fierce kiss, tears glistening in her eyes. ‘Thank you. Thank you for saying that.’

The kiss went on longer than she’d intended and she had to break it off to catch her breath. She pulled away from him with a smile, went to the French windows and pushed them open. A wave of jasmine-scented air swept over her hot skin, and she breathed in the scent of the ocean, only a few yards down the beach.

‘I think I’m having an out-of-body experience.’ She felt him come up behind her, press his body against her, his arms curving around her waist. She pressed herself back into him, felt the hot length of his erection through his pants. Sam pressed his lips to her shoulder, one hand splayed across her belly, the other under her skirt, sliding into her panties.

‘I want an in-your-body experience. You’re still wet,’ he murmured, and she laughed softly, her breath hitching as he began to stroke her clit.

‘You are a machine, Samuel,’ but she pressed her ass back into his erection as he caressed her. She could feel his fingers, the beautiful soft pads of them sweeping along her cleft, the mixture of his semen and her arousal making it slick and soft. Sam turned her so he could look into her eyes as he touched her.

 

‘Fuck, do you even know how beautiful you are?’ He whispered, his eyes taking on that intense, almost dangerous look. Her pulse quickened, her stomach disappearing with desire, Isa ground her mouth onto his. Sam tugged her up into his arms and moved to the bedroom, dropping her onto the bed and covering her body with his, his movement’s rough, commanding. He pinned her hands above her head, pushing her legs apart with his knee.

‘You’re mine, Isabel, and I’m going to fuck that knowledge into you so hard, you won’t have any doubts…’ His cock, thick and long, plunged deep inside her and she screamed with joy at the feel of it, moving her hips so he could ram into her as deep as possible. She felt the wide crest of it brush unrelentingly against the sensitive nerves deep inside her, making her head spin, her sensibilities go wild and her limbs liquefy.

As she neared the peak, he suddenly stopped, pulled away so only an inch of his cock remained in her. Isa screamed in frustration as Sam grinned wickedly… waiting, waiting. Then with one brutal thrust, he slammed into her so hard the bed moved. Isa felt the hot rush of her orgasm flood through her, over him, her whole body vibrating with uncontrollable pleasure. The next moment as Sam came, her sex was filled with his semen, throbbing from him in warm spurts. His eyes were soft now, full of love, full of her. He released her hands, and she slid them either side of his face, feeling the soft skin, sweeping her thumbs over the fine angles of his cheeks. Sam brushed her lips gently with his.

‘Tell me you’re mine, my Isabel…’ His voice was a caress, a whisper, a soft breeze from the warm ocean outside. She kissed him fiercely.

‘Forever, Sam, I’m yours…’

 

Even the evenings were sexy as hell here, she thought as she sat on the sand outside the villa, listening to the waves crashing onto the beach. The air was warm, but a cool breeze glided over her hot skin. Isa pulled her knees up to her chest, rested her head on them. She was tired and pleasantly sore from making love. Sam was in the kitchen, and Isa realized just how hungry she was as the smell of delicious food drifted through the villa. She clambered to her feet and followed the smell. As she got closer to the kitchen, she could hear Sam talking. She leaned against the doorway and watched him. God, he was so freaking hot, bare-chested, huge muscled arms, the pecs with the flat discs of his nipples, the wide chest sloping down to the hips, slim but not skinny. He had his jeans on, but she could see the outline of his incredible cock, big even when at rest. That’s all mine, she thought smugly, a smile playing around her lips. Sam saw her and grinned, his cell phone to his ear. His grin grew wider as he watched her watching him, her eyes raking up and down his body, obviously enjoying her admiration. He finished the call and turned off his cell, waving it at her.

‘Last business call, I promise.’

She didn’t answer but went to him, pressing her lips to his. ‘Something smells delicious.’

Sam grinned. ‘Me or the food?’

Isa chuckled. ‘Both. I’m famished, actually.’ She looked around at what he had prepared. Two fillet steaks with a green salad sat on the counter, a bowl of fruit salad, fresh plump peaches, strawberries, mango, and raspberries. She almost moaned at the sight of it. Sam laughed, grabbing a serving tray and whisking the plates on it.

 

‘Let’s eat outside on the veranda.’

She helped him light the tealights on the table, and they sat, enjoying the evening as they ate. The steak was juicy and tender, the salad crisp and fresh. They ate with enjoyment, Sam grinning at the moans of delight coming from Isa.

‘I am actually in heaven,’ she said later as she sat back, her hand over her full belly. ‘Right here, right now. You, sex, food, this island, this evening. This is my idea of heaven.’

He leaned over to kiss her, tasting of peaches. ‘You are my heaven.’

She grinned, her lips curving up against his. ‘If you’re trying to seduce me… it worked. I just need an hour or so to recover from this feast.’

He laughed, sliding his big hand over her belly. ‘Same here. I do have another surprise for you, though.’

Her eyebrows shot up. ‘Oh yes?’

Sam smiled, handing her glass of wine to her. ‘Finish your wine, and I’ll show you.’

 

An hour later he led her by the hand a room at the far end of the villa. The first thing she saw was the outside wall was entirely glass, sliding doors that opened up onto the beach, like the living room. Although it was dark now, turning the view to inky blackness, she could see that in the day, the sun would flood this room with light. Sam was turning on lamps around the room, and now she could see a long work bench, easels, canvases, pads of heavy artist paper, paint palettes. Her mouth fell open slightly and a lump formed in her chest. Sam watched as she walked around the room, touching everything lightly. Isa ran her fingers over unused half pans of watercolor paint, thick, round, rich, soft pastels in every color, tubes of oil paint, acrylics. She turned to look at him.

‘I don’t know what to say, Sam, this is just…’ She looked around again. ‘Willy Wonka’s Artist Factory.’

She grinned as he laughed at that, and went to him. ‘Thank you so much. This really is my heaven.’

He smiled down at her, brushed his lips against hers. ‘You’re welcome. You haven’t painted much lately – not that I blame you. I thought you could take some time out, do some work. If you feel like it, that is.’

She stared up at this gorgeous man she loved so much, wonder at his thoughtfulness, his huge heart. How had she been so lucky to meet a man like this? Someone who had brought her back to life, championed her, protected her? She wasn’t joking when she said it was a dream. Here, on this island, just the two of them, she could forget about stalkers and jealous artists and absent parents and death threats and lost babies. That last thought caught in her chest. Sam’s baby. She felt her eyes fill with tears again and turned from him so he wouldn’t see them. She walked over to an armoire at the far end and picked up a sketch book which looked older than the rest. She flipped through it to find pencil sketches, beautiful drawings most of a young boy, asleep, reading, playing, and laughing. Isa’s heart began to thump as she studied the boy’s features, soft with youth but so, so familiar.

Sam…

‘It was my mom’s. She used to come here and sketch for hours, sitting out on the beach.’

‘You never told me your mother was an artist.’

Sam smiled ruefully. ‘I know. Just another thing we have to discover about each other. I’ll tell you anything you want to know, sweetheart. This is it for me, forever. There’s nothing I want to hide from you.’

Isa said nothing for a moment. ‘Nothing?’

Sam shook his head. ‘Open book. You?’

She smiled then. ‘Me too. I will warn you… you’ll be bored when you find out about my life before you.’ She walked over to kiss him. ‘I can’t believe I had a life before you.’

Sam’s arms tightened around her. ‘I’ll never get bored.’ He picked her up in a fireman’s lift and carried her, shrieking with laughter, back to bed.

 

He had taken his time, sought out the one he was looking for. He scoured the places the hookers hung out at first, searched their faces, their mannerisms, the way they moved, to find anyone who reminded him of Isabel. After a few days, he gave up, frustrated, hid out for a few days with a bottle of bourbon, regrouped, and reassessed his plan.

The fact was that he just needed someone who looked like her – resembled Isa to such a degree, they’d be in no doubt, when they found her, that it was meant to be her. He started to scout the nightclubs, the bars, the college campuses.

He found her working at a gas-n-sip off the I5. It was a risk, of course, but he’d gone back when it was quiet with a baseball cap pulled down over his face, in a van he’d jacked from a side street in the business district. He’d flirted the first time, and when he went back, the excited smile she gave him told him this was going to be easy.

He took her as she stepped out back for a smoke. She struggled for a moment as he clamped his hand over her mouth and pulled her into the van. His punch to the side of her head knocked her cold. He tied her up and drove off, pulling into the parking lot of an abandoned motel thirty minutes later. He’d keep her here, alive, until they came back to the island and then he would give them a horror show they could never have imagined.

Isa balanced her chin on Sam’s shoulder, glancing at the laptop he was working on. ‘I thought we said no work?’

Sam turned his head to kiss her. ‘Just while you’re painting, I promise.’ He pulled her onto his lap and kissed her more thoroughly. ‘How’s it going?’

She held up paint-daubed fingers. ‘Good. I’d started to forget how blissful it was to just paint and forget everything else.’

Sam grinned. ‘So why’d you stop?’

‘Food.’

He chuckled. ‘Oh, of course.’

He followed her into the kitchen, admiring the sway of her denim skirt covered hips, the golden skin of her legs and bare feet. She wore an oversized white shirt, opened to reveal a white bikini that could barely contain her honey-ripe breasts. There were smears of paint across her bare stomach and streaked through the messy bun of her hair. Sam felt his groin tighten as he watched her flit around the kitchen, pulling together some food for them. She glanced up at him to catch his admiring appraisal and grinned.

 

‘What are you hungry for, Mister?’

Sam reached for her, but she skipped out of his way, giggling. ‘You are truly insatiable, Mr. Levy.’

He started to protest, but she pulled a chunk of bread off and stuffed it in his mouth. ‘Eat,’ she said, mock-seriously, ‘eat then fuck. That’s what us posh people do.’

‘You have the cutest little potty-mouth,’ but he laughed, enjoying her humor.

She pulled cold cuts from the fridge while he squeezed fresh orange juice. The French windows stood open, allowing the warm air from outside to circulate through the house. Laden with plates they took their feast to the table outside and sat down.

As they ate, she studied him. ‘We’ve been here two weeks already.’

He nodded. ‘I know. And we can stay as long as you like.’

‘The perks of having a rich boyfriend.’

‘The perks.’ He agreed but saw the uncertainty in her eyes. ‘I know it’s important to you that I don’t… how can I say this… make you a ‘kept’ woman – is that it?’

She smiled ruefully. ‘You know me so well. I’m trying to ignore that voice in my head. I‘m reasoning that you owned this island long before I met you so I might as well enjoy it. When we get back to Seattle, however, we need to talk about an equal division of financial responsibilities.’

Sam sighed. He didn’t want to think about going back to the city, going back to whatever craziness was awaiting them there. If he could have his way, they’d never leave this island. He told her that, and she smiled, reaching over to wind her fingers through his.

‘I know how you feel. For now, let’s just wring every minute out of this experience.’

He kissed her then ducked his head, running his tongue over the soft skin of her breast. He grinned as he looked up. ‘You had mayo on your boob.’

She giggled, stroked his face. ‘I do love you, you crazy man.’

He grinned then raised his eyebrows. ‘I don’t, you know.’

For a moment she looked confused, hurt. ‘You don’t what? Love me?’

Sam gave a short bark of laughter. ‘No, of course, I love you, sorry. I meant I don’t really know you that well. Isn’t part of what we came here for was to really get to know each other? We seemed to have skipped that part.’

She grinned, and he felt her foot climb his leg, rubbed against his groin. ‘I wonder why?’

He grinned, enjoying the feel of her foot against his cock. He ran his hand up the smooth skin of her calf, and she purred with delight, making him laugh.

‘So,’ she crunched on a celery stick, ‘where do you want to start?’

‘Tell me about your family.’

 

She rolled her eyes then, discarded the rest of the celery and took a slug of orange juice. ‘Father was an army surgeon, mom a homemaker. Or rather she just did whatever my father told her to. My grandfather was Indian – I think you knew that – and I was born in Pondicherry. Mom went home to give birth because my father was never around.’

Her face gave away her emotions and Sam nodded. ‘So your father was…’

‘…an asshole. That’s right. And that never changed throughout my own childhood. He was abusive, not physically but emotionally, verbally. My mom – and eventually me too – we both excelled academically, and he couldn’t stand that. Couldn’t abide two women being smarter than him, a man.

Sam nodded. ‘Wow, a real asshole.’

Isa nodded, her eyes angry. ‘Yup. Mom would never fight back against his bullshit, and she wasn’t strong enough to protect me so when I was sixteen, I left. He was stationed in Maryland at the time, so I got on the bus that had the farthest destination.’

Sam studied her, watching the myriad of emotions flash across her lovely face, seeing the deep burning anger within her. Isa chewed on her bottom lip.

‘When I applied for legal emancipation, they didn’t fight it. Mom didn’t have it in her to fight him and it. She made her choice. The one good thing my father did was provide me with enough money to rent an apartment to be able to live for a while.’ She drew in a long shaky breath and tried to smile. ‘When I got to Seattle, I was lucky – I found a job as a waitress then applied for a scholarship to UW. I met Zoe when she taught a class. I can’t describe what it felt like to finally have someone interested in me as a person, and not just as someone’s child. She gave me a home, a job and a family. As far as I’m concerned, Zoe Marshall is my mother.’

She fell silent, gazing out at the ocean. Sam brushed his fingertips over her cheek, and she leaned into his touch. ‘I saved my money and paid my father back every penny. I didn’t want to owe him anything.’

Sam nodded, understanding. ‘I get it.’ And he did, he could see the resentment, the hurt in her at her father’s absolute rejection. He scooped her onto his lap, nuzzled her neck as she draped her arms around his. ‘Thanks for telling me about it.’

She sighed deeply. ‘You’re right, remembering the crap stuff is painful. No wonder we didn’t do this before.’ She grinned, and he was relieved to see her good humor return. He pressed his lips to hers, tasting her slowly, tenderly.

‘Hey, let’s ditch the washing up and go play in the ocean.’

She nodded, cupping his cheek with her palm, gazing into his eyes. ‘Deal. But later, it’s your turn to spill your darkest and dysfunctional family secrets.’

Casey Hamilton sat in the darkest corner of the café, endlessly twirling her spoon in her coffee. Her date finally put his hand out to stop her, irritated by the sound of metal on ceramic. He pinched her chin between his fingers, searched her face.

‘Are you strung out?’

She didn’t need to answer him. Her large pupils and endless sips of the table water told him all he needed to know.

She pulled her head away from his grasp. ‘Fuck you. If I didn’t need money, I wouldn’t be here.’

He smiled, took a calm sip of his cappuccino. ‘But you do need money.’

‘What the fuck do you want me to do this time?’

‘Nothing yet.’

She made a disgusted sound.

‘Patience.’

Casey lowered her voice. ‘How long? I mean, how long does it take? Just fucking kill her.’

He laughed. ‘What on earth makes you think I’m going to do that?’

‘I… you told me you were going to hurt…’

‘Exactly. Hurt. Why would I kill her so soon when I can have her first? Especially when you plan on conveniently breaking her heart. She will be hurt. She will be vulnerable. She will give herself to me entirely and then – and only then – will I take her life.’

Casey was aghast. ‘You mean to say that all this was because you want to fuck her? Jesus Christ, what is it with her? That doe-eyed little half-breed whore.’

‘Not fuck. Possess. There’s a difference.’ And his voice made her shiver.

‘Okay. Okay. But what makes you think she’ll… she’s in love with Sam.’

‘Casey, really. I never said she had a choice in the matter.’

Casey sighed. ‘So what’s the plan then?’

‘There’s no point in doing anything while they’re away. We wait till they’re settled back home. When they think, they’re safe… you know what to do then.’

Her chin came up then. ‘I could, of course, go tell them everything instead. I wonder how grateful Sam would be that I saved the life of his little paramour?’

He laughed darkly. ‘Casey, dearest Casey, if you think Sam Levy would ever fuck you again, you are seriously deluded.’

‘Fuck you.’

His smile disappeared. ‘You do, remember? I showed you the tenderness he never could. But even a whisper to him will see the end of my patience, Casey. I have no compunction about slitting your throat.’

She curled her hands into fists to stop them trembling. ‘Do you kill all the women you fuck?’

He smiled. ‘No. But in your case, it’s more like trash disposal than murder.’

‘Bastard.’ She hissed the words, spraying him with spittle. He wiped his face and, pulling her towards him and ground his mouth on hers.

‘You have nothing to worry about, Casey, if you kept your pretty mouth shut. The only person I want to use my knife on is Isabel Flynn. I’m going to gut her slowly, watch the agony on that beautiful face, and listen to her struggle for breath. That is my endgame, Casey; I won’t take it lightly if you fuck with that.’

Casey began to smile. ‘Twisted.’ She glanced out at the damp Seattle streets, imagining Sam’s face when he found Isa’s body. ‘Do me a favor?’

‘What?’

‘Before you kill her, do whatever you can do to make my ex-husband’s life a living hell.’

His laugh was intimate. ‘I promise.’

 

 

The evening air cooled, brought with it the heady scents of the ocean, the flora of the island. Flickering candles around the room cast their skin in a warm glow as they moved together. Isa slid her mouth over the crest of Sam’s penis, massaging his sac gently as her other hand worked slowly up and down the length of him. She listened to his ragged breathing, felt his hands tangle in her hair as she pleasured him. Under her touch, his cock swelled, quivered, and she felt him groan as she flicked her tongue around the wide sensitive head. His hand clenched, fisting into her hair, his entire body jerking with the force of his arousal.

‘Jesus… Isa… please…’

Isa grinned, her lips curving into a smile around his cock. He wanted to plunge into her, she knew, but she was unrelenting, hollowing out her cheeks as she sucked him to an explosive peak.

‘Let me taste you…’ He hissed, breathless, and she moved around him, gasping as he buried his face in her, his tongue delving deep into her sex, probing the hypersensitive tissues. God, the feel of him…. Isa came as he did, his hot, salty semen pumping onto her tongue as her limbs liquefied. Sam flipped her onto her back and drove his still diamond hard cock into her, pushing her legs up to her chest, hooking her ankles over his shoulders. He bit into her neck, her shoulders, and his hands molding themselves around her breasts as she shuddered and gasped beneath him. She gripped his short hair as he caught her mouth with his, his tongue massaging hers, exploring her mouth as if he wanted to consume her. Her body tensed through another overwhelming orgasm, and she tilted her hips, spread her legs further as he drove into her. At her suggestion, they had both shaved and now the feeling silky skin-on-skin as she took him in, right to the root of his cock was incredible, a new way of connecting, of loving.

She felt the wet, scorching pulse of his cum filling her, and kissed him even as he gasped for air.

‘Stay inside me,’ she whispered to him, watching his face contort with ecstasy, with love for her. He nodded, smiling as he shivered. She tightened her legs around him, her vaginal muscles contracting around his cock. ‘I want to feel you getting hard while you’re in me.’

He chuckled breathlessly and brushed her lips with his. ‘You keep clenching like that; you’ll feel something alright.’

They both laughed as she tightened her grip on his cock. ‘Christ, Isa… what the hell did I do before I met you?’

She smiled, but there was an edge to it. ‘We haven’t had that conversation yet. The exes.’

Sam’s smile flickered. ‘Can we not have it while my dick is deep inside you?’

She grinned good-naturedly, pretended to consider. ‘Yeah, okay.’

‘You divine little tease.’

 

She chuckled wickedly. ‘Little cock-tease, I think you mean.’ She increased the pressure on him, and he groaned. He smoothed her hair back from her face, trailing his lips across her soft, dewy skin.

‘I love you, Miss Flynn. One day, I’d like to call you Mrs. Levy.’

Her eyes widened. ‘Sam… I…’

He pressed his lips to hers to silence her. ‘Don’t panic, I’m not asking that question yet. You’re not ready, I know. We’re not ready. But I want you to know that one day, I will ask it.’

She trailed her fingers up and down his spine, smiling at him. ‘And I want you to know, that when you do, I’ll say yes. Hell yes. Fuck yes. Just not yet.’

He grinned. ‘I can live with that.’

She could feel his cock stiffening inside her, swelling to fill her, and as he began to move, the slickness of his cum inside her excited her as he slid in and out of her.

‘Can we stay in this moment forever?’ She asked, and he nodded, his clear green eyes full of love for her.

‘And ever,’ and he kissed her as if it was the first time.

 

The nightmares returned that night. He was eight and padding barefoot through the family mansion at night. It was hot, stiflingly hot and sticky, a deep blue Louisiana summer night. All the windows had been thrown open, the sultry air bringing no relief from the heat, just making the drapes billow and dance. He could see figures behind them, shadowy figures that hissed and spat as he ran past them, mocking him. The floor seemed to melt to his little feet, making the sticky, hard to lift.

He could hear the screams from the other end of the hallway, the ripping of delicate fabric, see the light flickering in his mother’s room, and smell the blood.

The blood?

Dragging his legs, he managed to stagger to the doorway, knowing what he would see when he got there. The man, with his hands around his mother’s throat, squeezing the life from her, his face contorted with the most violent, passionate love he had ever seen. Love and horror in one inexorable dance. He would see his mother, his kind, wonderful, beautiful mommy, crumple to the floor, her eyes open and staring, her face purple, her tongue lolling out of her pale, blue lips and oh God, he would run to her and beg her to breathe, to live…

But it wasn’t his mother this time, and he was no longer eight years old, but a full grown man and the murderer had a knife and was laughing as he stabbed Isa, who lay across the work table in her studio, her blood pouring from her as her killer gutted her. She turned her head to stare at him, in her eyes, agony, betrayal, disappointment.

‘You didn’t save me, Sam.’ And he fell to his knees at her accusation watching her being murdered again and again and again…

 

Sam woke, dragging air into his lungs, panting out a rhythmic ‘No…No…. No…’ He rubbed his eyes with the pads of his forefinger and thumb then looked around. The panic rose in him again.

The bed beside him was empty.

Cursing loudly, he shot from the bed, running through the villa, calling for her, adrenalin racing through him in burning spikes.

Then he saw her, her confused, concerned, beautiful, living face, as she stood in the hallway outside her studio, in her pajama pants with a spaghetti strap tee, her hair tumbling down her back, her dark eyes like a startled doe. He drank in the sight of her and swept her up in a crushing hug, his entire body trembling. Isa stroked his hair.

‘What is it, baby? What’s wrong?’

He suddenly found his legs were giving way and they tumbled to the floor in a heap. Isa got her arms around him, pulling his head to her chest, rocking him, trying to calm him. Sam’s breathing started to stabilize, the feel of her in his arms the balm to his shattered nerves. He couldn’t speak for a while, so she just held him, kissing his temple.

 

Eventually, he pulled away, smiled sheepishly. ‘Sorry. Bad dream. And then I woke up; you were gone.’

She ran a finger down his aquiline nose. ‘Dopey. Sorry, I couldn’t sleep so I thought I’d do some work.’ She passed a hand over his forehead, pushing his damp curls back. ‘What was the nightmare about? You’ve had a few since we’ve been together and…’

‘What?’ He frowned. He could only recall having one since they’d met – the night he’d been away, and she’d collapsed. The night Cal had taken her to the hospital, and he’d gone from a nightmare to a waking one.

Isa nodded. ‘You don’t usually wake up, just thrash about a bit, and tell someone to ‘please don’t’. To be honest, I’ve wanted to ask you about them, but I thought you might be embarrassed.’

Jesus. He slumped back against the wall, his hand over his eyes. Tell her. He’d kept this secret from her because he couldn’t bear to see the love in her eyes replaced by pity. But now, here, on his island, safe from everyone else, Samuel Levy told his love about the night he watched his mother murdered by a man obsessed with her. He told her every detail, every horror and when he was done, he saw only love, understanding, comprehension

‘I couldn’t save her.’ He felt his body crumple, but Isa’s arms tightened around him.

‘You were eight years old,’ she pressed her cool lips to his temple. ‘There wasn’t anything you could have done. Where was your father?’

Sam laughed humorlessly. ‘Away on business. Jesus. When you collapsed, and Cal told me you were in the hospital, I suddenly realized what it must have been like for my dad, to get that phone call.’

‘I can’t imagine.’ But she could, and suddenly Isa felt nauseous. ‘I get it now, why you’ve been so crazy about this stalker thing.’

‘Stalker? Try fucking psychopathic killer.’ Sam looked at her, his eyes clear and angry. ‘No-one is going to take you away from me. I promise you that.’

She stroked his face. ‘I believe you. I love you, Samuel Levy. You and me together… ain’t nothing’ gonna tear us apart.’

He smiled a genuine, happy, relaxed smile. ‘You bet that sweet ass of yours.’

She pressed her lips against his mouth, her tongue running gently over the seam of his bottom lip. ‘I can make you forget your nightmares if you want.’

His hand slid up to capture a hunk of her hair, holding her head still as he deepened the kiss, the other hand under her t-shirt, his long fingers splaying across her belly. ‘You’re the only one who can.’

 

He pushed her back gently onto the floor and moved his body over hers, pushing down her pants. Kissing her tenderly, his hand slipped between her legs, seeking out the silky, damp warmth of her, his thumb brushing over the sensitive nub of her clit. She shivered with pleasure, her own hands under the waistband of his sweatpants, running the fingertips of both hands up and down the length of his cock.

‘God that feels good,’ he moaned, burying his face in her hair and feeling her soft laugh vibrate through her body.

Under her touch his cock became almost unbearably hard, her little fingers sliding up and down it, circling the tip, cupping his sac, massaging the sensitive spot between his balls and his anus.

‘Just let me touch you for a moment, ease your stress,’ she whispered, and he nodded his acquiescence.

‘As long as I can look at you…’ He pushed her t-shirt up, and she quickly removed it, kicking away her pants before sliding her hands back onto him. Her caresses were feather-light, sending waves and waves of pleasure through him. He gazed down at her, wanting to memorize every inch of honey gold skin, the faint pink blush on her cheeks, and the sheen of moisture from the heat, from her arousal. Her full breasts, ripe as fresh peaches, moved up and down as her breathing became ragged. He slipped two fingers into the velvety softness of her sex, moving them slowly in and out, as he fastened his mouth over one of her nipples, feeling it harden and pucker as his tongue flicked around it. He drew the tip of it out as he sucked gently, felt her touch on his cock grow stronger, stroking, tugging as it grew bigger, stiffening almost painfully. Her sex was sodden now, slippery with her arousal and with just a glance between them, he knew she wanted him inside her. His cock was so hard it was bobbing under its own heavy weight as he lined it up, sliding the tip up and down her slit. He pushed into her, and she gasped at the quick pain as her sex stretched out, enveloping the silky length of him. They moved slowly, almost dreamlike, rocking their hips together, their eyes soft and locked on the other’s. Sam stroked her belly, feeling it tremble under his touch, hearing her deep sighs of pleasure. Isa smoothed his short dark curls, tracing a line down to his cheek, drawing a pattern between the freckles and moles on his skin, to trace the outline of his lips.

 

‘Do you have any idea…,’ she whispered softly, ‘…how staggeringly gorgeous you are?’

Sam smiled down at her. ‘As long as you think so, that’s all I care about.’ He started to thrust harder, and she grinned, gasping her excitement. The sound thrilled him. ‘Tell me what you want me to do to you, my beautiful Isabel.’

‘Fuck me, Sam, fuck me until I lose control…’ And she cried out as he began to slam into her with all of his great strength, pinning her arms down with his, grinding his lips onto hers, tasting blood as her teeth caught her lip. She kissed him back with a fevered longing, her tongue caressing his, her mouth greedy now, wanting to taste him. His fingers were clamped into his hard buttocks, her fingernails digging into him, wanting to push him deeper, faster. The feel of her belly against his, the softness of her was driving him crazy; her breasts pressed into him as her body bucked and writhed beneath him.

‘God, Sam… …’ Isa’s eyes fluttered shut, and her cheeks burst with color as she reached orgasm and he felt her body shudder violently. He groaned as he came, his body jerking with the force of his semen pumping into her over and over.

They collapsed together, a mass of tangled limbs, sweat, and their still-connected bodies heaving as they caught their breath.

They lay there for long minutes wrapped in each other, drunk on each other. Sam couldn’t stop kissing her, his tongue delving into her open mouth, his teeth nipping gently at her lower lip. He felt delirious with love.

 

‘Tell me what you like.’

She smiled, her eyes closed, enjoying his lips on her. ‘I like your cock deep inside me.’

‘And?’

‘Your mouth on me, on my lips, my tits, my belly, the way your tongue feels deep inside me, your teeth on my clit.’

Her words were making him hard again, swelling inside her sex. He trailed his lips along her jawbone.

‘More.’

‘I love the feel of your skin against mine, the way you look at me when you’re coming, the way you make me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.’

‘You are the most beautiful woman in the world.’ He growled, and she chuckled.

‘You’re biased. But I love you for it.’

‘Tell me…’

‘I love the way your hips feel when they’re slamming into me, your cock ramming me so hard I can’t grasp any coherent thought except God I want you. I love the way you taste; I love going down on you, filling my mouth with your incredible cock, sucking you dry until you’re helpless under my touch.’

Sam smiled then, his eyes sleepy with arousal. ‘I’m helpless whenever you’re in the room, clothes or not.’

Isa grinned. ’Right back at cha, big boy. I love the size of you, not just your cock but you. The way your shoulders are almost as wide as I am tall, your solid chest, your arms. I feel so safe in your arms, so loved, so… where I belong. Your gorgeous face, your smile, your sense of humor. Samuel Levy, you were made from my dreams.’

He felt his cock thicken ever more and he began to move, to glide in and out of her again. Isa smiled up at him wickedly.

‘And I love it when you nail me to the fucking floor.’

They both laughed, as with a growing frenzy, he did just that for the rest of the night.

 

He frowned. The girl – who he’d named Isabel Two – was still unconscious. Maybe he’d been too heavy with his beating this time. But when he’d got back to the motel, she had been screaming for help, hoping against hope that anyone would hear her in this remote, rundown cockroach hellhole.

He’d tied her too well to the chair, the duct tape made her hands swell and grow purplish. He’d stripped her to her underwear and made her bathe and wash out her clothes. He had no desire to fuck her, was, in fact, growing tired of her. She may have looked like Isabel but there the resemblance ended. This girl was whiny, ill-educated, and shallow. He sighed. He’d get no pleasure from killing her; the most he could hope for was to gag her and keep up the pretense that she was Isabel.

The girl moaned, and he looked up to see her head as it rolled around for a few seconds before she looked up, her eyes heavy with the drugs he’d given her, the concussion from when he’d slapped her so viciously on hearing her cries for help.

He hadn’t gagged her again yet, wanted to amuse himself with her, and so now he sat in front of the chair, a slight smirk on his face. She focused on him, tears springing up into her eyes.

‘Why are you doing this to me?’

He shifted his weight, pretended to consider her question. ‘Well, Isabel Two, it’s not really you I’m doing this to. It’s your namesake. You just happen to be the vessel I’m going to use to communicate my desires to her.’

The girl looked confused. ‘My name is Sadie, not Isabel, and what the fuck are you talking about?’

He grinned widely. ‘I’m going to use your body to illustrate how I’m going to kill her.’

The girl quelled. ‘Why?’

‘To scare her. To make her cower in fear. To torture her. Don’t worry…’ and he brought his knife out to show her and she whimpered with fear. He ran the tip of it from her throat down her body till it rested in her navel. ‘It won’t be long now. I’m afraid it will be painful but that can’t be helped.’

‘You’re a sick fuck.’ She spat the words out at him, and he felt a flood of rage pulse through him. He stood and shoved a rag into her mouth, winding a strip of duct tape around her head to keep it in place.

‘Maybe so,’ he growled at her, ‘…but at least I’ll be remembered.’

The girl choked on the rag, and he wondered if he should let her suffocate, ease her death. No, that wouldn’t do. He had to get her to the island and kill her there. It would be harder to move a dead body, and besides, he wanted the spectacle, the horror of the massacre.

He wanted the blood.

 

Isa stroked the paint onto the canvas, enjoying the sight of the bright pop of color. Sam watched her, fascinated. She smiled up at him as they sat in her studio, the windows flung open, the doors wide, and the sensual sounds of the oceans drifting into the room. The heat was drowsy, sultry in the late afternoon. Isa was working on a small canvas she balanced on her lap, one hand in Sam’s, the other holding the paintbrush.

‘Can you work okay like that?’

She nodded, smiling. ‘I’m just dabbling. I’d rather have my hand in yours than not.’

He leaned over to kiss her. ‘I could watch you paint all day.’

The side of her mouth jerked up in a grin. ‘I’ll paint pictures on your body and ride you at the same time.’

Sam laughed aloud. ‘Such a dirty girl. I’m clearly a bad influence.’

‘Only you.’

He nodded, in mock-shame. Isa touched the tip of her paintbrush to his nose.

‘So… let’s talk about our, um, histories.’

He knew what she meant immediately. ‘You first.’

Isa nodded. ‘Okay then, although there’s not much to tell. Cashed in my v-card at college to a guy whose name I can’t remember. I admit,’ and she grinned sheepishly, ‘I was hammered at the time, so I can’t tell you what it was like.’

Sam grimaced. ‘I’m okay with not knowing.’

She sniggered. ‘After that, I’ve only really had two other boyfriends. Leo, who I met at a coffee house on one of the San Juan Islands. He’s a sweet guy, an investment banker, so we really didn’t have much in common. We were really like friends with benefits and one day we just decided to end things. All very amicable and we still email occasionally.’ She shot Sam a look under her lashes, to see if he would react to that, but he just smiled. Isa gave a little sigh of relief. ‘He’s married now, with about seventeen kids.’

Sam laughed, nodded. ‘I’ll bet. So the other one must be… Karl?’

There was an edge to his voice now, and Isa squeezed his hand. ‘Don’t get hung up on Karl. I think I told you he’s a graphic artist, yes?’

Sam gave a tight nod, his mouth a hard line, but said nothing. Isa sighed.

‘We met in an art supplies store. Again, we didn’t date for that long, but he got attached. My heart wasn’t it in it, so I ended things. The trouble was, I picked the worse day to do it, and he got physical. Just once, mind, but once is enough. He was devastated, could not apologize enough. Not that it’s any kind of excuse, but it’s a big leap from a one-time offender who was drunk the day he was dumped, to a psychotic stalker. It’s not Karl.’

‘You sound like you’re trying to convince yourself as well as me.’

Isa considered. ‘I don’t think so. I keep going over in my head all the possibilities of it being Karl – and no, I won’t believe it’s him until I’m proved wrong. Or not.’

She could feel Sam studying her, and met his gaze steadily. Finally, he gave a brief nod, and she relaxed.

‘Anyways…’ She hinted and laughed as he rolled his eyes. ‘Come on, your turn, spill.’

Sam’s hand tightened on hers. ‘I never really formed any big attachments, too busy building my portfolio, dealing with my dad’s affairs when he died, getting Cal through college.’

She flicked water at him. ‘Avoiding.’

‘Am not. Okay. My college sweetheart was Mary-Lou…’

‘You’re kidding me with that name.’

Sam laughed. ‘You caught me. Okay, in college I dated a bit, never really getting too heavily involved as I say. I suppose the longest I dated someone was Jeanne for a couple of months. She was very political, incredibly driven, and not much of a sense of humor.’

‘Good in bed?’

‘Not answering that.’

‘So yes, then.’ She grinned at him to let him know she was joking.

He smirked but ignored her. ‘Anyway, we broke up when she went off to… somewhere to protest something, I don’t know…’

‘Hurry it up.’

‘Impatient wench. I dated Britt for a while, she’s a photographer, then Lauren. No-one special. No-one like you. You are the only woman I’ve ever loved.’

Tingles of pleasure made her face glow, and she grinned. ‘Glad to hear it. ‘

He took the brush and canvas from her and put them carefully on the workbench, then pulled her onto his lap. ‘You,’ he said, nibbling her ear lobe, trailing kisses down her neck, ‘…are my entire reason for being.’

Isa leaned into him, shutting her eyes, not wanting to ruin the moment, ask him the question that had been nagging at her for weeks. ‘No other artists then? Seems like, in your business, it’s a target-rich environment.’

‘One or two, maybe, no-one special.’ But she caught his hesitation, and her heart skipped a beat.

‘Casey Hamilton?’

Again he hesitated. ‘Who?’

Isa sighed and pushed away from him. There was confusion in his eyes, and she gave him a weak smile, not meeting his eyes.

 

‘Come, let’s get something to eat.’

She walked in front of him to the kitchen, trying not to let the lump in her chest overwhelm her, cause hot tears to flood down her cheeks. He was lying to her; she believed it with all heart. Sam knew Casey Hamilton; she would bet her life on it, and intimately too; it was the only way she could explain the other woman’s behavior and Sam’s complete denial. So why did he deny it? She couldn’t, wouldn’t believe he was still seeing her. She ignored the ripping pain that thought conjured. Isa gritted her teeth. If he wouldn’t tell her then, she knew who to talk to about it. She knew who would help her figure this out.

 

Casey Hamilton smirked at she looked at the caller i.d. on her phone. ‘What the fuck do you want?’

‘Careful with your tone, Casey.’

She sighed. ‘Look, I’m sick of this. Tell me what you want, or I’ll go to them, tell them everything.’

There was silence. ‘And risk a bullet in the head?’

She laughed, a mirthless sound. ‘I thought you were going to cut my throat, you sick animal?’

‘You don’t deserve a slow death.’

She shivered. ‘Look, what…?’

‘It’s time.’

She let out a long hiss of breath. ‘Fine.’

‘Good girl. You’ll get your money soon enough.’

She could hear he was about to hang up. ‘Wait?’

‘What is it, Cassandra?’

The way he said her name sent a thrill through her. ‘When you kill her… when you stab that bitch to death… will it be slow? Will it be painful?’ Her voice had dropped to a seductive purr.

He gave a low chuckle. ‘It will be unimaginable.’ 

There was a tension between them for the rest of the afternoon, and now, as they cleared their plates from a light supper, Sam put his hand on her bare back.

‘What is it, sweetheart? You’ve been quiet since we talked.’

 

She shook her head. She had argued with herself all afternoon but now she was tired, and she didn’t want that idiotic woman coming between them, ruining their idyllic time on this island. ‘It’s nothing, just thinking about… stuff.’ She slid her arms around his waist and looked up at him. ‘Let’s go sit out on the beach.’

He held her hand as they walked to the ocean’s edge, sitting, so the water lapped at their bare feet. He settled her in the crook of his arm as she rested her head on his shoulder. They in companionable silence for a while.

She felt his lips press against her temple and sighed. ‘I wish we didn’t have to go home.’ The thought slipped out before she could stop it. He rested his cheek on the top of her head.

‘We can stay as long as you want.’

‘I know but, realistically, we have to go back and sort out this mess. Find this idiot who’s threatening me. Us. Because, Sam…’ and she pulled away so she could look into his eyes. ‘The pregnancy, however, unplanned, well, it did happen, could happen again, and when, and if we’re ready to bring our child into this world, I don’t want this hanging over us. Even without children, I won’t feel we can move on; I’ll always be looking over my shoulder.’

Sam nodded. ‘I agree and we will, I’ll use every resource at my disposal to find him, I promise. It just may mean you – us – taking more precautions. Restrictions.’

She blew out her cheeks. ‘As much as I hate to admit, I know you’re right. I just couldn’t bear it if I was carrying your child and something happened. That’s worse than dying.’

Sam shuddered, and she regretted her words. ‘Sorry, baby.’

There was a long silence where Sam just took her left hand, traced a line around where a wedding ring would go. ‘We never discussed… you want kids?’

She smiled, leaned over to kiss him. ‘Yours? Yes, of course. At the same time, if you’re not keen, then…’

‘I do. I want to have children with you.’

She felt tears spring into her eyes – God, she was so emotional lately. ‘Then we will. Just not yet.’

He smiled and hugged her. ‘Deal. Let’s just enjoy what we have now?’

She felt his phone vibrate in his shirt pocket. ‘Thought you turned that off, big guy?’

‘Sorry.’ He pulled it out and glanced at the screen, his expression darkening. ‘Shit.’

‘What is it?’

‘Nine-one-one from Cal. I have to call him back.’ His smile was apologetic.

She scrambled to her feet, held out her hand. ‘Let’s go back to the house; I can give you some privacy there.’

 

She left him in the living room and went back to her studio, shutting the door behind her. The day had left her feeling oddly bruised. Maybe it was the thought of going back to Seattle. She hated feeling like this, she loved her home city with a passion, thought it the greatest place in the world. Except maybe this island, she considered with a grin. She could really get used to the solitude and safety of this place. She marveled how much her life had changed in such a short time. Ten years from virtually homeless to a luxury island. She chuckled to herself. Don’t get too smug.

A knock at the door. She looked up as Sam opened the door, his face grim and set. It made a spike of icy cold anxiety sting her stomach.

‘What is it?’

‘We have to go back to Seattle. An artist is making noise about your work and not in a good way. She says you plagiarized some of her pieces.’

Isa’s hackles went up. ‘What the fuck?’

Sam nodded. ‘Quite. But she’s been smart and gone to all the right people to start a rumor. We have to go home now and start damage control or your work, Zoe’s gallery, my reputation, we’ll all be tainted.’

Isa felt her whole body go still. ‘Who is the artist?’

She knew even before he said it, the way his eyes flashed with anger, the way his voice took on a low, dangerous tone. She knew.

‘Casey Hamilton.’

 

The first blow was the always the sweetest, the popping of flesh under the knife, the wide-O of the victim’s mouth as if the searing pain of being stabbed was somehow a surprise.

Isabel-Two was no different. He killed her slowly, driving the knife deep into her abdomen the way he would stab Isa, enjoying the hot pump of blood on his hands. This girl had no fight in her – he expected Isa would fight back, refuse to die quickly, take every blow, every stab until the very last moment.

Isabel-Two died too quickly for him to fully imagine what murdering Isabel Flynn would be like.

But, for now, it was enough.

 

Isa slept on the flight home, cradled in Sam’s arms. He could not sleep, too keyed up, angry, ragingly angry if he was honest. Fucking Casey. Damn her all to hell; she wouldn’t ruin Isa’s career. Sam knew, realistically that her claims could be easily dismissed; it wasn’t that which bothered him. It was the revelation of his and Casey’s marriage that would invariably come out in the press. He’d gone to great lengths after the divorce to remove any reference to it online – at great expense. It wasn’t easy to find out they’d been married, but it was possible.

Why the fuck hadn’t he told Isa right at the start? What the hell had he been thinking? He was nearly forty – did he think she would be surprised by a previous marriage? He’d just been thrown by Casey turning up to the gallery at that time. He didn’t want her anywhere near Isa, didn’t want to taint this new, all-consuming love with the mistakes of his past. He sighed and felt Isa shift; her lips press to his throat. She smiled up at him sleepily.

‘Hey, you.’

He ran the back of his finger down her cheeks, marveling as always, at her dewy beauty, the love in her eyes. Did he deserve her? Sam swallowed away the question and kissed her.

‘You know…there’s a bedroom at the other end of this cabin…’

She grinned. ‘I like your thinking, sir. Let’s keep our island bubble going for just a little while.’

He carried her to the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him. She stretched as he laid her on the bed, grinning and yawning at the same time. She looked so adorable he moved on top of her, caressing her through the light cotton of her summer dress, kissing her mouth, tasting her lips. He moved down the bed, pushing her dress above her waist so he could bury his face in her soft belly, feel it move up and down as she breathed. His fingers twisted into the sides of her panties, tugging them down so he could have kissed down her abdomen and take the tiny nub of her clit into his mouth. Isa shivered and gasped, reached down to stroke his head, her fists clenching and unclenching in his short curls.

He spread the soft lips of her sex, running his tongue along her slit until it dipping into her sex. He could feel her blossom, swell, and moisten at his touch, her soft moans and sighs telling him she was getting unbearably excited. His cock strained against the heavy denim of his jeans, but he wanted to make her come before he fucked her, using his tongue, his hands. God, when she was like this, trembling, her body soft with love, trusting him entirely, he could only see her, think about her.

‘Sam…’ She came, her back arching from the bed as she shivered and moaned. He moved up the bed to kiss her as she caught her breath, freed his ramrod cock from his jeans, pushing her legs apart. She nodded, excited and groaned as he plunged into her, his thrusts measured, controlled. Her hands clamped onto his ass, and he felt her spread her legs wider and wider to accommodate him. He kissed her roughly as his strokes became quicker, their eyes locked on each other’s.

By the time the plane touched down at Seattle’s busy airport, they were exhausted, sated. Isa lay in his arms, and he was alarmed by the tears that sprang up suddenly in her eyes.

‘What is it, sweetheart?’

She dashed away the tears with a hand. ‘Sorry. It’s just… the minute we step off this plane, others will be in our lives again. It won’t be just you and me anymore.’

He wanted to comfort her, wanted it more than anything but he couldn’t. He knew exactly what she meant, how she felt because he was feeling it too. Out there, out in the world, there were people who wanted to take her away from him. And he was terrified he wouldn’t know how to stop them.

Cal was chatting with Seb and Zoe when they got back to Zoe’s house. After the hugs and kisses of greeting, Zoe bore Isa off to the kitchen while Sam took Cal aside.

‘You went to the island?’

Sam nodded. ‘Sorry I didn’t tell you, but I wanted…’

‘Hey, dude, no harm, no foul. I think it was a good idea.’

Sam sighed. ‘What the fuck does Casey think she’s doing?’

Cal rolled his eyes. ‘Who knows? Wants to make trouble for you and Isa. What does Isa say about her?’

Sam rubbed his hands through his hair. ‘Not much. She keeps asking me if I know Casey.’

Cal went still. ‘You still haven’t told her?’