A cold feeling wound its way around Mark’s bones. He could be wrong. It was just a word. Just a . . . hunch based on unconnected pieces to the puzzle that was this case. This was going to be a shot in the dark. Still . . . he picked up his phone, dialing his office, willing to put his ass on the line. His blood was humming in that way it did when he knew he was onto something. He asked for his boss and when he picked up, Mark got straight to the point. “I think we need to get some cadaver dogs out to Isaac Driscoll’s land.”
CHAPTER FORTY
She almost didn’t recognize the man in the khakis and the white button-down shirt as he came toward her, but it was him. She knew that stride, the way he seemed not to walk but to prowl. And then he smiled—that boyish unpracticed grin full of open pleasure—and her heart leaped. She rushed forward and he did too, taking her in his arms, both of them laughing, as though they hadn’t seen each other in months, when in fact it had only been three days.
He swung her around once and she laughed, leaning forward so he could kiss her. He did, both of them sighing as their mouths met. When the kiss ended, he placed her back on the marble floor of the Fairbanks’s foyer.
“You shaved,” she said, bringing her hand to his smooth cheek, just the bare hint of dark stubble underneath his skin. He was ridiculously handsome, his jawline strong, his cheekbones high and sharp, but a part of her mourned. It was the first outward proof of his changing. She knew it was inevitable now that he was living as part of society. She knew it was good and positive. She knew he’d learn and grow and change as he should. As he deserved. She knew all those things, but she still felt the loss of the part of him he’d leave behind to become the man he was meant to be.
He laughed, releasing her, his gaze roaming over her as though his eyes were starved for the sight. “You didn’t call me,” he said, and she saw the hurt in his expression.
She stepped back, frowning. “I did call you. I left four messages.”
Jak frowned too, glancing over her shoulder. She looked back. She’d forgotten the butler was still standing near the front door. What was his name again? His gaze was directed elsewhere, but she felt momentarily embarrassed for the public display of affection.
Jak took her hand, leading her out of the foyer. “He’s like a weasel,” he said under his breath, leaning toward her as he glanced back again. “Always slinking through the house.” He put the emphasis on the word slinking as though it was a new one and he had looked it up specifically to describe the man. He grinned proudly and Harper laughed, covering her mouth.
He opened a pair of wide mahogany doors that went all the way to the tall ceiling of the hallway and ushered her inside. She sucked in a delighted breath as she looked around at the impressive library, bookshelves filled with books from floor to ceiling. There was a reading light on in the corner, next to an overstuffed red velvet chair. “Is that where you’ve been?” she asked, nodding toward the chair.
“For three days,” he answered, letting go of her hand and walking away, his face tipped upward as he looked around at all the books. “Isn’t it incredible? It would take me the rest of my life to read all these books.”
“Oh, I don’t know, it looks like you’re making pretty great progress.” She looked pointedly at the teetering stacks of books next to the red chair. “Did you really read all of those?”
“Not all. Some I didn’t like as much as others. The pile in front are the ones I want to read again.”
She laughed. “Well, if you’re re-reading, it might take you the rest of your life to get through this collection.”
He smiled happily. “I’ve learned so many new words, Harper.” He looked up, recalling. “Distressed and bewildered. Anxious. Accepting. Indignant.”
She studied him for a second, noting the words that seemed to matter to him the most were emotions. Her heart flipped. She wondered if he’d tried to describe his own feelings to himself all these years and had come up short. I love you, she thought for the hundredth time since she’d first realized it, and yes, it was as simple as that. She took in his smile as he gazed around. “Do you like it here, Jak?”
He sat on the edge of the table behind him, crossing his arms casually over his chest, his biceps straining the material. In that moment, he looked so unlike the caveman she’d watched in that cell what seemed like a thousand years ago. In that moment, he looked like a . . . well, like a Fairbanks. He appeared thoughtful and then spoke haltingly. “I like some things . . . I like the shower.” He grinned. “And . . . I like this room the most. Some of the food is good. But . . . I’m not sure about the people who live here or . . . the birds.”
“The birds?”
“My grandfather’s wife is a bird woman. She has a roomful of hundreds of birds. They’re called tropical and they live in cages.” He shivered.
“Ah. An aviary.” Yes, she could imagine that would be very strange to him. Strange and possibly sad to see caged birds when he’d only ever known them to fly free. She found it sad.
“Aviary,” he repeated. “Yes, that’s the word.” He stood suddenly, moving forward, taking her in his arms and, though he looked like a Fairbanks, she was glad he still moved like a hunter. “I missed you,” he growled against her ear, walking her backward until her butt hit the edge of another table. She thrilled at his words, his touch, the hard length of his body pressed to hers. She opened her legs so he could step between them.
“I missed you too. When I didn’t hear back from you, I thought maybe . . .” She turned her eyes from his, vulnerability making her feel shy. He moved his head to the side, lining their eyes up again so she was forced to look at him.
“What?”
“Well, just that you were getting acquainted with your new life . . . that . . .”
“That I didn’t want to see you?”
She blushed. “Yes.” She shook her head, grimacing. “No, I understood.” She let out a small uncomfortable laugh. “I mean, you should take all the time you need to get acquainted with your new life.”
A crease formed between his eyes. “It feels like I have more time now. I don’t have to hunt for food, and before . . . I lived by the sun’s rising and setting, so I’ve been very . . . tired here.” His brows dropped as though he wasn’t satisfied with the word he’d chosen. “The days feel . . . strange. But, Harper, I want you to be part of my days. All of my days. Do you want me to be part of yours?”
“Yes,” she answered, a catch in her voice as she nodded.
He smiled and she guessed that was that. He leaned forward again, rubbing his lips on her throat, inhaling her scent. She leaned her head back, offering him as much access as he needed. “I need to ask who to get my messages from,” he murmured. “So I don’t miss one of yours again.”
“Mm,” she hummed. “I’m glad I got up the nerve to stop by.”