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any sign that what she said was a hoax. Instead of
being able to debunk her story, he found everything
lining up.
All of it.
Her story behind her arrival, Tara McAlister s
disappearance, the question behind who Gwen
Adams was. He re-studied every piece of evidence so
many times his eyes were crossed. He came up with
no other plausible explanation, except that what she
had vowed to him was the truth. Twisted, crazy, un-
deniably insane truth. A truth he had to be nuts to
believe.
That wasn t the worst part.
The worst part, the absolute most horrendous
part was the fact that he sat in his home unable to
get a hold of her for the last couple of hours,
worrying that maybe she d left. That she d returned
to her time without as much as a goodbye.
He d never desired a woman as much or with
such fierceness as he did Myra. What in the hell was
wrong with him?
 I should go to bed. She moved passed him.
His arm shot out, stopping her.
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Silent Vows
 No. His tone was deadpan. Slowly, he backed
her into the wall. She wasn t going to walk away, not
yet. Not when his blood pumped the way it did when
she was around.
Unable to form a single coherent sentence, he
did what he had wanted to do every night since they
met.
He took.
95
Catherine Bybee
Chapter Nine
His mouth came down in a searing assault,
sending endless shock waves through her limbs. She
hadn t had time to think or process what he was
doing. The simple fact that he was holding her,
kissing her and branding her as his own was
overwhelming. He wanted her. The way his hands
roamed over her body, crushing her to him felt
desperate, stronger and more fierce than any other
time he had touched her.
As his hands thrust through her hair and his
mouth probed hers for entry, she felt his hard mass
lean into her soft fragile curves.
Then something turned on inside her. Like a
switch, her body ignited into flames, burning him
and engulfing her.
Her lips opened to his, welcomed his warmth,
his moisture. Without thought, her hands traveled to
his back, pulling him closer. She hesitated briefly at
his waist, not certain how much liberty she should
take in his arms. Where were the rules dictating
what she should and shouldn t do? She felt his hands
skim down her neck. His thumb traced the outline of
her breast.
 Oh, God, she moaned when his lips left hers.
It was then she realized there were no rules,
only passion. Their bodies reacted, guiding them to
do what came naturally. God help her, she wanted
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Silent Vows
what came next.
When she dropped her hands lower and brushed
down his thighs, heat punched his stomach, leaving
him breathless. When he filled his hand with her
breast, she didn t pull away but molded into his
caress. She moaned at his touch.
He pulled her shirt from her pants, desperate to
touch her flesh, to feel it against his. He wanted to
devour her in one long gulp. His day of pacing and
fear powered his adrenaline now. He managed to
shed her of her top.
 Beautiful, he whispered. He trailed his lips
down and feasted on her breast.
She didn t push him away, instead she seemed
as anxious as he to shed her clothing.
He started to move toward the sofa, backing her
up. They should go to his room, but the thought of
walking that far disturbed him. He wanted her
there, now.
Somewhere, in the back of his mind, Todd told
himself to slow down. This was her first time, and he
wanted her to taste heaven, needed her to enjoy
every pleasure he knew he could give. But she was
tugging his shirt out of his jeans, and he was
helpless, lost to her.
A deafening crash outside the front door was
like ice-cold water tossed over an open flame. Her
nails, clawing at him in passion, suddenly gripped
him in fear. Her gasp edged toward a scream.
His head shot up while the rest of him froze. He
looked down at Myra and put a finger to her lips
demanding silence when the second crash came.
He tugged her to the floor. Staying low, he
inched over to her shirt and thrust it into her hands.
Myra hurriedly dressed and wedged herself
between the wall and a divan.
Todd crawled on his hands and knees to where
he left his gun. Crouching on the balls of his feet, he
97
Catherine Bybee
clicked off the safety on his nine millimeter and
clasped it with both hands. With his weapon in front
of him, he edged his way to the side of the massive
picture window.
He saw a large shadow and pulled back. What
the fuck?
 Stay here, he whispered as he passed her.
 Stay down. He ducked into the kitchen and headed
to the back door.
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