“I do believe you, Dylan. But why did he say that? What’s he trying to accomplish?”
“Dissention. He’s jealous of your success at the camp, of me, of what we have . . . everything. And he’s trying to poison any happiness we might have,” he said, sounding more irritated than he’d intended.
“He obviously knows about us. If he tells the other Durand managers we’re involved, they’ll probably withdraw their votes for me.”
“He wouldn’t dare,” Dylan told her, his glance assuring her he was stating a fact, not an opinion. In the privacy of his mind, he was having some pretty vivid fantasies about punching away that smug, superior look on Sebastian Kehoe’s face. How dare he try to sway Alice by implying Dylan had a history of seducing Durand employees?
Alice’s anxious expression penetrated his aggressive fantasy. He cupped the side of her head and waited until her dark blue eyes met his. “You’ve done extremely well as a counselor. No one is going to take that away from you. I’ll make sure Kehoe is solid on that point. He’s taking a trip with me to Reno tomorrow. We’ll be away for a couple nights, so there’ll be plenty of opportunity for us to talk,” he stated grimly.
Her spine straightened. “You’re going away tomorrow?”
He nodded. He planted his hands at her waist and shifted her, sliding her farther up his body. When she craned her chin up and stared up at him through her spiky bangs and long lashes, their mouths were only inches apart. He maneuvered his hands between them. She lifted slightly to accommodate him, and he loosened the ties of her robe. He parted the sides of the fabric, exposing her nude body to his naked torso. He grunted in pleasure when she settled against him.
“I tried to get out of it, but I can’t. I’m going to put some extra security on you at the camp while I’m gone,” he said.
“Dylan, I don’t want—”
“And I’d appreciate it”—he interrupted her, sliding his hands along her bare shoulders and arms, and ridding her of the robe altogether—“if you didn’t lead that security on some kind of wild-goose chase. They’re good people, and they’re just trying to do their job, Alice.”
“I know,” she mumbled, looking vaguely contrite. His gaze narrowed on the vision of her teeth scraping against her lower lip. “I won’t try to get away from them.”
“Thank you. Now come here.”
He put his hand at the back of her head, bringing the tempting distraction of her mouth within striking distance.
*
SHE ran through a sun-dappled hallway, laughing. The gong had just sounded, and she was so hungry. The smells of chicken and macaroni and cheese filled her nose, making her salivate. There was chocolate ice cream for dessert, too. Mommy had let Cook have the day off, and she’d made the meal herself—all of Addie’s favorites. But the chocolate ice cream: That was Daddy’s favorite, too.
“Hurry, Daddy. Dinnertime,” she called over her shoulder. He was more of a feeling than a tangible man behind her. He was so big—as big as a mountain—and so strong. And he loved to laugh. There was nothing her daddy couldn’t do.
“I’m right beside you, Addie. I always will be,” he called.
Her scurrying footsteps halted. His voice echoed in her head. So rich and warm, love knitted into every syllable.
So real.
“Daddy?” she called out shakily, because all she saw behind her were shadows. Fear slinked into her golden world like a light-sucking serpent. A shiver tore through her. Why couldn’t she see him? She peered into shifting light and darkness, taking a step toward him, hoping to see him. Craving it. Someone grasped her upper arm from behind, the hard grip making her cry out in shock. She turned and saw Mommy, but she didn’t look right. Her face was pinched with fear. Her neck and ear were wet with a shiny bright red liquid, but it was the wildness in her large eyes that terrified Addie the most.
“Run, Addie. Hide.”
*
ALICE awoke to the sound of her own shout. Her muscles immediately tensed and moved for fight or flight, but someone was holding her down.
“Alice. Shhh, it’s okay, baby. You were having a nightmare.”
The sound of Dylan’s voice penetrated her thick fear. Her thrashing slowed, but she couldn’t seem to stop it altogether, as though the primal necessity for flight was quieted by degrees, not entirely in a moment.
“Shhh. You’re safe. Everything is fine,” Dylan soothed, tightening his hold on her until her sluggish fight eased. The sounds of her ragged breathing filled her ears. “You okay?” he asked after a moment, stroking her arms, warming her pebbled flesh.
“Yeah. It was the dinner gong,” she gasped. In her mind’s eye, she reviewed the brief but vivid dream. “Mommy would ring it to let Daddy and me know it was time to eat. There was going to be macaroni and cheese and chicken . . . and . . . and chocolate ice cream.”