Prologue
The night was soft. A gentle, early summer night, thick with the scent of honeysuckle and the rain that had passed hours before. The glow of the full moon shadowed the land, leaving secrets hidden, scars unseen and the gentle mystery of the land left to soothe the soul.
Sam slid through the shadows cast by the stables and the thick brush that led to a sheltered grove. He was adept at hiding in the darkness, at using the shadows to slip and hide and make his way to whatever destination he had chosen. He had been doing it since he was ten. Finding adventure, finding peace within the open land he called home. There had been times when it had saved his sanity, that peace, the wide-open freedom, the smell of juniper, honeysuckle and a cleansing rain.
He wasn’t a kid now, or a tormented young man. He was an adult, and though he fought the shadows in his own mind, he knew the demons weren’t far behind. He hid behind careless laughter, teased his brothers, played childish pranks. Even at the age of thirty, he made certain to find a way as often as possible to break the bleak sadness that filled Cade and Brock.
The sadness was lifting a bit now, and Sam found as their happiness began to bloom, the darkness within himself began to grow. Marly helped. Bright and filled with laughter and a compassion and acceptance he would never fully understand, she lightened the hell they all lived within.
He paused beneath the spreading limbs of a thickly leafed oak and glanced back at the house. She would be sleeping now, held close by Cade, and possibly even Brock, unless he had headed back to town and Sarah, while Sam was showering.
Marly wasn’t the first they had shared, but she was the most important. She was Cade’s soul. She was his and Brock’s heart. They had helped raise her since she was twelve, had endured her teenage years as she flirted and rubbed against them like a frisky foal, and they now shared in the passionate, heated love she had for Cade.
“Bad Sam, sneaking out of the house like that.” He jumped as the amused, feminine voice brought him out of his thoughts.
He turned quickly, watching as a dark form separated itself from a nearby tree. His lips quirked in humor. Heather March was going to break his heart. He couldn’t help the thought as he watched the petite redhead stroll slowly toward him.
“You’re following me again.” He tried to sound disapproving, stern, but it was hard when she made him
feel so damned light inside.
“It’s my job, Sammy.” He winced at the nickname she had stuck on him. Marly’s mother used to call him Sammy. He didn’t like it then, and he didn’t like it now. “I’m supposed to follow your bad ass.”
A soft ray of moonlight speared through the trees, glistening in her red hair, glowing against the soft creamy skin of her pretty face. Her green eyes reminded him of a cat, softly tilted, inquisitive. Her pert nose was just too cute for words, but her pouty little mouth was a work of art. The curves glistened with moisture and made his c**k thicken and harden beneath his jeans with abrupt need.
As she came close he reached out, jerking her against his chest as she gasped in surprise. He held her close, letting her feel the erection straining beneath his jeans.
“Sam,” he reminded her softly, inhaling the soft scent she wore. It was romantic and soft, and undeniably hot. “Not Sammy, Heather. I’m going to get you for that nickname you’re trying to pin to my ass.”
A grin stretched her lips as her body softened against his. “My sister catches you holding me captive like this and she’ll kick your ass,” she snickered. “Better let me go.”
He turned until he could back her against the tree, holding her there with easy strength. “Your sister just likes to think she’s all bad,” he whispered, the fingers of one hand playing with the long braid that fell down her back. “I’m not scared of her.”
Her hands smoothed up his chest and he fought himself, fighting for breath and for control. Damn, he shouldn’t be this horny, this hot. Not after the hour he had spent with Marly, her lips wrapped first around his thick cock, then the tight, velvet heat of her ass gripping him. But Heather could make him hot when no one else could. She was soft and sweet, and so damned smart-mouthed she could make him crazier than hell.
“You better be scared of her. She’s mean.” Her hands paused at his heart, and he knew she could feel the hard throb of his excitement there as easily as she could feel his hard-on pressing against her abdomen.
Silence lengthened between them then as sexual tension thickened in the air.
“You were with Marly tonight,” she finally whispered softly. “Taracleared us away from the house. She always does.”
He wanted to look away from her, but he could see the questions in her eyes. Why did he go to his brother’s woman, when he could have her? And he could have her. He knew she got just as wet for him, as his c**k got hard for her.
His finger ran over her cheek gently. “Would you want to watch?” The thought of it was almost enough to make him crazy with arousal.
“I don’t think so, big boy,” she sniped with a fierce frown. “You’re a real interestin’ man, Sammy. But watching you f**k another woman wouldn’t be the highlight of my day.” Jealousy shimmered in her voice along with a thread of anger.
He sighed deeply. “It’s not like that, Heather.” He moved away from her, shaking his head as he crossed the short distance back to the stables.
She was silent, but he was aware of her following him, keeping up with his longer stride until they entered the dimly lit haven of the building. The horses were all in the pastures, and the building smelled of sweetly scented hay and leather saddles.
“You shouldn’t be sneaking out like this, Sam,” she said as she closed the door behind her. “With the stalker’s return, it’s hard telling…”
“I wish he would come after me.” He turned to her, rage surging through his body. “Son of a bitch thinks he can get away with attacking our women and trying to destroy our lives. He’s a f**king coward, Heather, and one day, one of us will get our hands on him.”
“If he doesn’t kill you first,” she snorted, watching him with that bright, sharp gaze that sometimes seemed to pierce his soul. “You need to be more careful. All of you do.”
She leaned against one of the stalls, her arms crossing under her br**sts as she watched him with that militant look in her eye.