Chapter Fifteen
The touch of Beau’s lips on hers sent Sabine’s body into overdrive. Her skin tingled as if she’d never been touched before, and in a way, it was true. Certainly, she’d never been touched before like this. Beau was different, special, and even though she knew the last thing in the world she should be doing is kissing him back, that’s exactly what she did. As their kiss deepened, he pulled her body close to his.
He was hard and ready, and Sabine moaned as he pressed his hips into hers. He broke off their kiss and began trailing kisses down her neck until he was at the sensitive flesh just at the vee of her blouse. Sabine sucked in a breath, then gasped as he pulled her blouse aside and lowered her lacy bra just enough to take one hardened nipple into his mouth. He slowly swirled his tongue, sending her into fits of pleasure.
Knowing there was no going back now, Sabine slid her hand across the front of Beau’s jeans, stroking the long, hard length of him through the denim. He paused for a moment, his breathing irregular. Then with one swift motion, he lifted her off the floor and gently laid her on the bed. He unbuttoned her blouse and expertly removed her bra, then lowered himself to continue his erotic assault of her breasts. As his mouth worked its magic, he unbuttoned her pants and slid one hand inside.
For the first time in weeks, Sabine thanked God she didn’t wear underwear.
He found her sensitive spot and swirled his fingers around it, matching the pace of his tongue on her nipple. Sabine felt the pleasure building in her until she was afraid she would explode. She placed her hand over his and gasped. “Wait. I want it to be together.”
Beau nodded and leaned down to kiss her deeply, his tongue dancing with hers. Then he rose from the bed and shrugged off his clothes. Sabine sucked in a breath when she looked at him, so hard and hot and so totally male. She reached out with one hand and circled the length of him, then ran her hand up and down, squeezing slightly every time she approached the tip. Beau closed his eyes and groaned, and she increased the pace.
Mere seconds later, he moved her hand away and rolled on protection, then rose over her on the bed. He leaned down to kiss her, then entered her in a single stroke. Sabine gasped with pleasure and clutched his back, digging her nails into his skin. She thrust her hips up to match his strokes. As they found their natural rhythm, she felt the pressure building in her.
“Now, Beau,” she whispered, “I can’t hold it any longer.”
“Yes,” Beau said as he moved with increased intensity. Suddenly his body stiffened. “Now.”
The orgasm crashed over her like a tidal wave, every nerve ending in her body responding. They cried out at the same time and Sabine clutched his back, pulling him deep inside her as the pleasure rolled over her again and again.
Beau leaned back in the bed against the stack of pillows and Sabine lay against him. He wrapped his arms around her, trying to control his warring emotions. He couldn’t lose her and knew his only chance was to convince her to give up her newfound family and anything that went along with them.
“Sabine,” he said quietly, “there’s something I need to tell you.”
Sabine shifted a bit so that she could look up at him. “What is it?”
Beau took a breath, trying to decide how to begin, how to end, how to explain the horror, the heartache, the devastation. Finally, he decided to start at the beginning. “I was raised by a foster family. When I was two years old, my mother gave me to nuns at a church in New Orleans and left.”
Sabine’s eyes widened in surprise. “Why?”
“The nuns didn’t know why. She’d only said she couldn’t take care of me and asked them to give me to someone that could. Then she left. The nuns tried to locate her or my father, but she didn’t give them any name. She didn’t tell them where she was from or where she was going. She simply gave me to the nuns and disappeared.”
“So the nuns raised you?”
“No, they gave me to a couple from the church who couldn’t have children. They were thrilled to take me and were wonderful parents. I will always be grateful to them.”
“But you wanted to know.”
Beau nodded. “I had to know why a woman would raise a child for two years, then abandon him to strangers. Why she would never come back to get him. What kind of person could do that, and why? When I joined the FBI, I chose to specialize in missing persons. Every single day, I tried to find people who had vanished, and every night I applied my new skills to finding the answer to my own private mystery.”
“And did you ever find them?”
“Yes. I won’t go into all the details, except to say that it took six long years of digging before I caught a break. I’d found a man who might be my father.” Beau ran one hand through his hair. “I was working in D.C. at the time, but I booked the first flight to New Orleans and drove a couple of hours to a small town north of the city. When the man opened his door, I knew at once that I’d found half of my answer. It was like looking into a mirror twenty years away.”
Sabine shifted in the bed so that she could face him, her torso propped against his chest. “What did he say?”
“He didn’t say anything for a while. Then finally he said, ‘I guess your momma sent you.’ I told him I didn’t know my mother and that I’d been raised by a foster family. That I’d been looking for him and my mother for over six years. He invited me in and I thought that was it. I was about to get all the answers I’d been searching for. The puzzle would be complete.”
“But you didn’t?”
“No. He didn’t know where my mother was. In fact, he hadn’t seen her since that very day she’d left me with the nuns. She’d been going to visit her sister in Mississippi, or at least that’s what she’d told him. He’d driven her to the bus station and bought her a ticket to Gulfport. Her sister called that night, wanting to know why we weren’t on the bus. The ticket had been collected at the exchange in New Orleans and her luggage was on the bus when it reached Gulfport but there was no sign of my mother.”
“So something happened to her between New Orleans and Gulfport.”
“That’s what everyone thought, which is why the police didn’t even concentrate on New Orleans with their search. If there was an announcement on the news, the nuns wouldn’t have seen it, and since my parents were poor, the only photos of me were as an infant and my mother from her high school yearbook. They didn’t even have a wedding photo.”
“So no one would have recognized you from the photos, even if they’d seen a news story.”
“Not likely. The police searched every bus stop between New Orleans and Gulfport, but they never found a thing. She’d simply vanished. Finally, they assumed we’d been taken by a person or persons unknown and the file was shoved to the back of the cabinet in favor of others that had more evidence and might be possible to solve.”
“So you had to give up?”
“No. I talked extensively to my father about my mother’s behavior before that trip. Something could have happened to her, certainly, but her leaving me with the nuns was deliberate. My father spoke of her erratic behavior—drinking, paranoia, said she always felt like someone was watching her. It sounded like a mental breakdown to me. And I figured that’s what she meant when she told the nuns she wasn’t fit to take care of me. So I started looking at mental health facilities around Louisiana.”
“Smart,” Sabine said. “And the perfect explanation for why she never returned.”
Beau nodded. “That’s what I thought, too. It took another two weeks before I came up with anything, but finally, I found a nurse that had worked at a facility in Monroe. She remembered a woman who’d come to the home at around the time I was asking about. The woman couldn’t remember her name and had no identification. A full medical exam had revealed that she’d given birth, but when they asked her about the baby, she became confused and always insisted that she didn’t have a child. Finally, they decided that the baby must have been stillborn and that perhaps that was what had sent her over the edge.”
“She didn’t remember. That’s so sad.”
“I thought so, too. The woman stayed at the home for three years. She never regained her memory. Finally, the state issued her new identification and the home assisted her with finding a job and a new place to live, as she was otherwise quite competent to take care of herself. She went to work at a local library and, as far as the nurse knew, was still working there. Only you would understand my excitement, the thrill of knowing that the thirty-year-old mystery of who I was would finally be solved.”
Sabine nodded. “I understand.”
“I couldn’t find a listing for her in the local phone book, so I called the library and found that the woman I was sure was my mother would be at work that afternoon. Four more hours and I would have all my answers. Then I called my father with the news and he was elated. I waited for her in the parking lot of the library, certain I’d recognize her, and I did. She was older, of course, and her hair was starting to gray, but I could still clearly see the woman from that high school photograph.”
Sabine put her hand over her mouth. “Oh, Beau, what a moment in time.”
Beau grimaced. “Yeah. It was a moment all right. I started walking toward her and she looked at me. I could tell by the look on her face that she knew exactly who I was. She shook her head and said ‘Please leave. Leave and pretend you never saw me.’ I knew then she’d been pretending amnesia all those years. I opened my mouth to ask why. I deserved a reason. That’s when a car squealed into the parking lot. It was my father. She looked at the car and her face went completely white, filled with fear.”
Sabine sat upright and stared at him. “Oh no!”
“I immediately knew why she’d left—why she’d given me away, and why she’d stayed hidden all that time. My father jumped out of the car and took her out with a single shot to the head, then he turned the gun on himself.”
Tears ran down Sabine’s face and she wrapped her arms around him. Beau hugged her tightly, choked with emotion. “I’ve never told anyone all of that, until now.”
Sabine pulled back a bit and looked at him. “Why did you tell me, Beau?”
“Because I need you to understand how family can hurt you. Biology doesn’t make people care. Please, Sabine, I’m begging you, let this thing with your family go. Stop all contact with them. Have an attorney draw up papers stating that you relinquish any part of the estate you might be entitled to.”
Sabine pulled away from him. “I can’t,” she whispered.
Beau rose from the bed, his heart breaking in two. “What in the world could possibly be worth your life? Please explain to me why these people, these strangers, mean more to you than everyone who loves you?”