Especially if she’d come to their attention because of her relationship with Chase’s father and the wealth and power the man had wielded in life?

  In fact...

  “Chase? When Nate spoke to you about his mother, he also brought up that she wanted him to press for his inheritance. That he should be determined to take more. Do you think she’s getting pressured by these Ever After people?”

  “You mean she’s being manipulated rather than being a direct part of it all?”

  “It would play, wouldn’t it?” Sloan turned the idea over in her mind. “She’s been a conniver, but she’s also been a product of her misguided thinking her entire life. Leaving her husband and children for her own sister’s husband? That’s...” Sloan trailed off, looking for the right word. “Well, it’s small in so many ways.”

  “Small?”

  “Yeah. She doesn’t have the best interests of others at all. Not her children. Not her husband. Not her sister. But more than that, she also didn’t go looking very far with her choices. If she were that unhappy with her life, wouldn’t she have gone farther afield? More, wouldn’t she have sought out a life that she could live without the secrets and having to remain hidden away? She and Robert weren’t even able to marry, despite the deception of looking like they were a couple.”

  Sloan wasn’t entirely sure where she was going with this theory, but something about it rang true.

  Jessie Colton had jumped at whatever was in front of her. It was destructive, but it also didn’t scream a sense of thinking things through with any degree of cunning or calculation.

  Rather, it appeared as if she was simply being dragged along by whatever impulse was directly ahead of her.

  “So if we play out your way of thinking, she’s being manipulated by Winston Kraft?”

  “Winston or the guy he works with, Markus Acker. She’s easily fascinated by a bright and shiny promise placed in her path.”

  “Her children certainly don’t seem to have been enough to keep her priorities straight.”

  “No, they weren’t.” Sloan thought again about what she’d managed to dig up on the Ever After Church and its leader, Acker. Everything rang patently false about the group, their leader most of all.

  “I think that might give me a new line to tug.”

  “On what?”

  “Rick’s information was helpful, but his father, for all his power and influence, is functioning in the role of support staff. Keeping the computer. Cleaning up any messes. I think I need to dig deeper into the leader. Markus Acker.”

  “I thought you had details about him in your files?”

  “I did and a lot of impressions about him that seemed off, somehow. Like a sanitized, polished version of him was all I could find online.”

  “You think it’s fake?”

  “I think it could be. And with some of the information Rick gave us, I’m going to do some more digging to see if I’m right.”

  * * *

  “We have a very important job for you, Brother Jasper.”

  Markus kept his tone level and easy, pushing the lightest touch of urgency under his words as he sat in the clearing. His crossed legs and prayerful position belied the anger at their current situation roiling deep inside.

  He was gratified to see that urgency was working when Jasper shifted his position, nearly squirming to get closer, his pale blue eyes lighting up with the fervor of the believer.

  “Of course, Leader Acker. How can I help?”

  Jasper was one of his true believers. He wasn’t wealthy, but he was useful. Markus was well aware he needed both types of followers to make Ever After the success it was.

  A point that had been proven in spades when Jasper had helped with the disposal of a few of those dead girls.

  “It seems Brother Kraft’s son has been speaking ill of our work.”

  “Ungrateful boy.” Jasper practically spat the words.

  “Ungrateful betrayer,” Markus said with emphasis.

  Winston’s son had always been a bone of contention between him and Winston, the man’s willingness to sit back and leave the boy to his own devices concerning. Sure, Rick and his little family kept to themselves, but it was a problem to have such a threat out roaming free.

  And now that threat was visiting with Jessie’s family.

  There was no way it was a coincidence.

  Winston had managed to tap into his son’s door camera earlier that afternoon and found the proof standing on the other side of the porch.

  “How can I help you, Leader?”

  “I believe Winston’s ungrateful son has been spying on us. Talking about us. And telling others that our peaceful life is fake.”

  “But it’s not!” Jasper’s agitation spilled over as the man leaped to his feet. “We’re a peaceful sort. We do our work quietly and away from prying eyes. It’s only the betrayers that must be silenced! Like those girls.”

  “You know how to work quickly and quietly. I need you to confirm Rick’s actions and assess if the threat to our peaceful life grows too great.”

  “I will, Leader. I can do that.”

  Markus slowly got to his feet, the motion meant to convey serenity to his obedient follower. He’d learned long ago that ability to project a certain untroubled tranquility often did far more good for advancing his goals than any other tactic he possessed.

  People liked calm.

  They liked order.

  And they responded to someone who competently wielded both.

  He came to his full height, looking deep into Jasper’s eyes. “I’m so grateful I can count on you, Brother Jasper.”

  “Of course, Leader. Ever After must be protected from that rabble.”

  “I know you’re right.” Jasper had nearly turned away, happy to head off to his task, before Markus added one final admonition. “I’m sorry to say his wife is a problem, too. I believe she’s contributed to the darkness in Brother Kraft’s son.”

  “I’ll keep watch, Leader,” Jasper promised, that fervency in his eyes like a form of desire. “I’ll see that they can’t do us any harm.”

  * * *

  Chase paced Sloan’s small living room, updating Greg on their visit the day before with Rick and Wendy. He’d meant to get to his cousin sooner but after their visit he’d had to race back to Colton Properties for an emergency meeting to make an offer on a property they were at risk of losing. Sloan had headed back here to her place to tug more lines of information they’d received from Rick.

  Beyond a few text messages and missed phone calls between him and his cousin, a full day had passed until he’d been able to provide updates.

  “I know this is hard for Rick and Wendy. I appreciate your willingness to talk to him on this. He wasn’t happy to see Sloan and I, but he was a real help.”

  “He knows what a problem his father is. He—” Greg broke off, his sigh traveling through the phone line. “It was one of the things that bonded us young. His dad. My mom. Rick was the one friend who understood what that betrayal was like.”

  “I’m sorry, Greg. More than I can say.”

  “For what?”

  “For never realizing just how bad it was. For not realizing how deep the hurt was. It’s only now, after knowing what my own father did, that I realize how much I never said. Or understood.”

  That truth flowed out, a product of years observing his cousins. He’d always known Greg, Max, Malcolm and Lizzy had struggled with their mother’s abandonment. But he’d never had the words before.

  It was only as Sloan walked into the room, setting a small tray on the coffee table full of cheese and crackers, that he finally understood why he could say them now.

  Sloan.

  She’d come into his life for a difficult purpose. But she’d found a way to help him through all the things he’d never had the words for.

  His cousins’ pain of abandonment.

  His own frustration and loss after his marriage dissolved.

  And then the deep, cavernous pain of betrayal at his father’s actions.

  Sloan had seen it all and she’d had the compassion to help him see that they might be facets of his life, but they didn’t have to define him.

  “We were kids, Chase. You didn’t have to say anything. You were there for me. For my brothers and my sister. So was your mom and so were your brothers and sisters. We got through.”

  A level of certainty filled Greg’s voice that humbled Chase.

  Here was a man who’d faced a lifetime of challenges—and was still facing them—from the actions of a parent. Despite it all, he didn’t blame others or lash out.

  “I’m still there for you. I hope you know that.”

  “Right back at ya, cuz. Now. Get off the phone with me and get back to that lovely woman who’s dumb enough to spend time with you.”

  “I’ll be sure to tell Sloan you said that.”

  Whatever seriousness had laced their conversation had vanished, Greg’s normal level of mischief and good humor firmly in place. “See that you do.”

  Sloan glanced up from where she settled the snack, a broad smile on her face. “Tell me what?”

  “Greg says hello, in his own inimitable way.”

  It was a facet of his cousin’s personality, one Chase was finally coming to understand had been forged in the fires of his mother’s abandonment.

  Smile. Laugh. Joke.

  Wonderful traits in their own right, but also weapons that could defend, deflect and protect one’s emotions.

  He hadn’t really understood it before now, but hadn’t he done the same when it came to relationships?

  Avoiding anything serious—on the surface—looked like a carefree lifestyle. But it was only now, when faced with someone who had truly begun to matter to him, that Chase realized all he’d done was hide behind his own emotions all these years.

  Because Sloan had come to matter.

  No matter how much they both had tried to disregard that fact, it had become increasingly impossible to avoid.

  Or ignore.

  “Sloan.” He reached for her hand, oddly pleased when she not only took what he offered, but also gave his hand a light squeeze. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “I’m glad I’m here, too.”

  “I mean really here. In this moment. In Owl Creek.” He stared up at her, his heart racing. “With me.”

  She moved closer, her free hand settling on his shoulder. “I’m glad I’m here, too.”

  “It’s inevitable, isn’t it?” He murmured the words as he stared up at her, gratified when he saw the same acceptance in her eyes.

  “I think it is.” She nodded.

  “What should we do about it?”

  She stood there, staring down at him for several long moments as she seemingly came to some decision.

  “I don’t know if this is a good idea.”

  He wanted her, of that he was certain. But he couldn’t deny the reality of their situation. Or the risks that no amount of want could get them to the other side of this attraction. “Me, either.”

  “But increasingly, I’ve come to realize it’s the only idea.”

  Before he could respond, she bent her head and pressed her lips to his, a world of want and need and sheer desire in the play of her mouth over his.

  Chase placed his hands on her hips, pulling her close until she tumbled into his lap.

  And as she fitted into his arms, cradled against his body, he asked the question they’d been leading to from that very first moment in his office.

  “Let me stay with you.”

  Her gaze never left his, those fathomless depths of the deepest brown pulling him in.

  “Yes.”

  * * *

  Yes.

  Such a simple word.

  Such an easy agreement.

  And yet, for all the simplicity, Sloan thought, there was power in the acceptance of all that was still to come.

  Their kiss on the couch had spun out, delicate and urgent all at once. And it was only now, as she held his hand and led him to her bedroom, that Sloan recognized everything up to now had been leading them here.

  The attraction between them was undeniable.

  But the need to be together physically had become an ache she could no longer ignore.

  More, she no longer wanted to ignore it.

  She was a woman in full possession of her faculties and her will.

  And every bit of both wanted Chase Colton.

  The back of her legs brushed the side of the bed, both stopping point and decision point.

  Continue to go further on this journey?

  Yes.

  It pounded through her in lockstep with her heartbeat as Sloan reached for the hem of Chase’s dress shirt, dragging it from where it was tucked neatly into his black slacks. The man was well-dressed, sharp and natty, and all she could think of was messing him up.

  Of getting beneath that refined look to the man who was flesh, blood and beating heart.

  The man she loved.

  That awareness hit hard and fast and Sloan stilled her movements to stare up at him, drinking in the moment even as it scared her beyond herself.

  Love?

  Was she really there?

  Or was she confusing the overwhelming need to give in to passion with feelings that had her dreamily thinking of forever?

  There was no way to really know. But dissecting her feelings in the dimming light outside her bedroom window seemed rife with the potential to miss the moment.

  She’d think on it later. Then, she could turn it over in her mind to her heart’s content.

  But right now, she’d take.

  With renewed focus, she finished undoing the row of buttons that ran over his chest, stripping the thin material of his shirt over those impressively broad shoulders. His T-shirt quickly followed and as she ran her hands over the wide planes of his chest, she reveled in the feel of him. The light dusting of hair beneath her palms. The wide, flat nipples that were sensitive to her hands, his green eyes darkening at her touch. And the thick bands of muscle over his stomach, solid and firm beneath her seeking fingers.

  He was impressive. So hot and so responsive to the lightest touch.

  But it was the thick length of him as she slipped her hand beneath the waistband of his slacks that drew her in. Beckoned her toward all that was still to come.

  And that had her quivering in anticipation when he growled against her mouth before pulling her fully against him.

  * * *

  She was killing him.

  Slowly. Determinedly. Exquisitely.

  And he’d never been more ready to give in and simply accept his fate.

  Sloan was a marvel, his own personal miracle. And as he mimicked her earlier motions, slipping her now-open blouse from her slim shoulders, Chase took a hard breath.

  She was beautiful.

  High, rounded breasts spilled over the lacy edges of her bra, while that small rib cage tapered down into a flat stomach and the secrets that still lay beneath her jeans.

  Secrets he was determined to uncover, one achingly slow moment at a time.

  With her blouse removed, he shifted his attention to her bra, unhooking the delicate material and taking in his fill as it followed her blouse to the floor. With firm hands, he cupped her breasts, his thumbs playing over her erect nipples, her skin so soft he wondered if he’d ever touched anything so perfect in his life.

  He’d wanted before.

  Needed before.

  But never had he been so overwhelmed by a woman so as to forget everything but the pure magic of the moment. And she was so responsive—so achingly beautiful as her eyelids dropped with her pleasure—that Chase gave himself the joy of simply watching her take the pure power of what was between them in physical form.

  A need that pushed them harder, faster and more greedily toward a finish line that waited in the distance.

  A finish line they’d cross together.

  With that temptation awaiting them both, Chase laid her down on the bed, his gaze never leaving hers, as he took the final steps of removing his slacks, then reaching for her to pull her jeans and panties down the slim lines of her legs.

  And then, it was just the two of them, naked bodies pressed together as he stretched out beside her on the bed.

  Her pretty brown skin practically glowed in the soft, end-of-day light that filtered through the window as he traced his fingertips over her flesh. She followed suit with gentle traces of her own, from the surprisingly sensitive skin on the inner curve of his elbow, to the achingly hard length of him she returned to with fervent strokes.

  They shared it all, there in the dying light of day. As the lazy discovery turned more urgent—as the need for her that had overwhelmed him from the start grew so intense he could think of nothing else—he positioned himself over her.

  She’d already sheathed him in the protection he’d retrieved from his wallet and as her thighs opened for him, Chase touched that endless sweetness, her slick folds waiting and ready for him.

  She reached down to guide him into her, her body drawing him in, closer.

  Deeper.

  And in the most erotic moment of his life, they began to move. The rhythm was fast, hard, exquisite. Pleasure built in his body, the magnificent force building behind his eyes even as he desperately fought to keep his gaze level with hers.

  More, as he wanted to watch her the moment she was as consumed as he.

  The moment her world exploded in starlight.

  He didn’t have to wait long, and when she cried out in pleasure, he let himself go.

  That final race to the finish.

  The final driving beat of body into body.