Cooper’s Redemption (Crimson Romance)

by D'Ann Lindun

  His tone must’ve alerted her because she looked at him with frightened eyes. “What is it?”

  “I think we’re being followed.”

  She whipped around in her seat. “By whom?”

  “I’m not sure that’s even the case, but we better get ready for some trouble. Can you see anything?” Lightly, he stepped on the gas. It was too slick to drive much faster.

  “Headlights, coming quick.” She sounded scared.

  The bright lights in his mirrors bounced into his eyes, making it almost impossible to drive. The other truck slammed into the rear bumper, sending them sliding forward. The steering wheel slammed into Cooper’s ribs, stunning him. Elizabeth screamed, but it took all his concentration to breathe. By instinct, he kept the truck on track.

  No more had he gotten his pickup straightened out than the other truck hit them again.

  This time, Cooper couldn’t keep the wheels straight, and the truck began to spin out of control. He fought to handle it, but the truck turned in a wild arc. With another bump, the other vehicle sent them into a full out-of-control turn.

  There was nothing to do but ride it out.

  “Hold on,” Cooper ordered through clenched teeth. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Elizabeth grab the seat with both hands.

  The old Ford came to a stop with a loud bang.

  Cooper saw the outline of a truck as it tore by, but he couldn’t tell the make or model through the pelting snow. He had a pretty good idea who was driving it, though. The only thing Cooper was 100 percent sure about right then was that his ribs hurt a hell of a lot. His breathing came in jagged bursts that felt like they were going to rip through his left lung.

  Elizabeth’s eyes looked like they were about to bug out of her head. “You okay?”

  “Not the best,” he admitted.

  “What’s wrong?” Her voice shook.

  “I think I might’ve busted a rib,” he muttered, holding his chest with one hand.

  “Oh my God,” Elizabeth cried. “What do you want me to do?”

  Cooper closed his eyes for a moment. “Let me think.”

  She got out, slamming the door shut behind her. In a second she was at his side. “Scoot over.”

  Easing, as not to injure himself further, Cooper obeyed. “Do you know how to drive a stick?”

  “Yes, my mother owned a vintage convertible. Elizabeth placed a foot on the clutch and turned the key. The motor refused to roar to life. A click was the only answer. She repeated the action two more times. “It’s dead.”

  “Something must’ve busted,” Cooper muttered.

  “I’ll get out and check.” At his surprised look she said, “My mom made me take a basic mechanic’s course. I can change oil and my tires if I have to. I’m capable of seeing if something is broken.”

  As soon as she lifted the hood, an enormous cloud of steam lifted toward the sky. Dammit. The radiator was busted.

  As Elizabeth climbed back in the cab she said, “We hit a boulder beside the road. The radiator’s got a hole the size of Old Faithful in it.”

  “I figured.” As much as he hated to admit it, there was only one choice. “We’ve got to walk.”

  “Walk? Are you crazy? You’re injured, and it’s who knows how far to either one of our houses. Not to mention, there’s a blizzard outside.”

  “We’ll freeze if we keep sitting here,” Cooper said. “We haven’t got a choice. Besides, it’s less than a half mile to my place.”

  “Maybe someone will come along … ”

  “And finish the job? We’re sitting ducks out here.”

  Elizabeth ceased to argue. “Do you have a flashlight?”

  “In the glove box.”

  After she retrieved it, Elizabeth reached over to button his coat.

  Cooper grinned wryly. “I can manage.”

  “I doubt it.” She dropped her hands.

  Ignoring her sarcasm, Cooper reached for his buttons, and red-hot pain ripped through his lower ribs. In spite of himself, he grunted.

  “Want me to do it?”

  “Yeah.” He didn’t want to give in, but since he had no choice, Cooper gritted his teeth as Elizabeth’s smooth fingers flew over his chest and abdomen. It took little imagination to see those hands moving a little lower, pleasing him. Forcing his thoughts in another direction, Cooper put his mind on the task ahead. Although it was only a short distance to the ranch, it would take a lot of effort. “Bundle up good.”

  “I have on everything I brought with me,” she mumbled from under a scarf she’d wrapped around her face. “Let’s go.”

  “All right then.” Cooper climbed out. A blast of blinding snow hit him in the face. “Grab my hand,” he gasped over the wind.

  Elizabeth made her way around the front of the truck and took his gloved hand. Even through the thick leather, her confidence in him flowed into him. He gave her a reassuring squeeze and ducked his head into the wind. Elizabeth moved beside his shoulder. Her action surprised him. He’d expected her to follow, not walk beside him.

  Together, they began to trudge forward. Even if Cooper’s ribs didn’t ache like hell, it was hard to catch a breath. The wind insisted on stealing it. Concentrate, just one step at a time. With determination, he put one foot in front of another as pain shot through his side. The tire tracks he’d left earlier in the evening had almost disappeared underneath the new snow. Although bitterly cold, moving kept them from feeling it too much.

  A few minutes later, Elizabeth tugged on his grip. Cooper stopped and looked at her. “What’s wrong?”

  “I need to rest a minute.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Just tired. But it’s you I’m worried about. Are you hurting terribly?”

  Avoiding her question, he said, “We’re almost there. Just around the bend. We’d better get a move on.”

  She stepped forward. Cooper had to be tiring and hurt and needed her to be strong. A quick glance over her shoulder confirmed they’d moved some ways from the pickup. There was no sign of it. Of course that didn’t mean much. As dark as the night had become, it was nearly impossible to see.

  Just to see if she could find her hand, she waved it front of her face. She spotted her fingers. What a relief. If she could see them, then they hadn’t fallen off. Living in Southern California, Elizabeth had thought her feet were cold once when she’d gotten wet in a rainstorm, but tonight they felt like two frozen fishsticks. She hoped to live long enough to stick her toes in a fire. Maybe they’d thaw out — if she got really lucky. Oddly, she’d never noticed the actors in the movies acting like snow was this bitter. Well, Joan Blondell had in Will Penny when they were stuck in that cabin …

  Because all feeling had left her lower extremities, Elizabeth missed the big rock in the middle of the road. With a muffled curse, she fell, landing on her palms. Snow dusted her body like she was a powdered donut. “Ouch.”

  Cooper knelt beside her. “Are you hurt?”

  “No,” she managed. “I’m fine.”

  “Don’t stay there,” Cooper ordered. “You’ll get soaked.”

  She pushed to her feet, knowing he couldn’t help with his injury. She brushed at her jean-clad legs, but only succeeded in rubbing the ice through her pants into her skin. The cold pricked like needles. “That’s cold.”

  “Move,” Cooper said roughly. “You’ve got to get inside before that melts against your skin and causes hypothermia.”

  “I’m too cold for anything to melt,” Elizabeth cried. “I don’t think a blowtorch would warm me up.”

  “The heat of your body will break up the ice,” he insisted. “We’ve got to move. Right now.”

  His tone frightened her, and Elizabeth picked up one leaden foot and set it down in front of the other. With terrible effort, she repeated the action. Had she thought she had to stay strong for Cooper’s sake? The man was a rock, made of steel, forged in fire. Not once did he complain even though he had to be hurting like crazy.

  Taking
a cue from him, Elizabeth kept quiet and marched. Why had she left L.A.? For this? To freeze to death on an abandoned road in the middle of nowhere? She was no help to her mom. If only the police had done their job, she wouldn’t have come here. In spite of her determination not to give in to emotion, a tear slipped down her nose. And froze there.

  “Don’t,” Cooper said somewhere near her ear.

  “Why, will my eyes freeze shut?” she muttered.

  “Could happen,” he said. “Look, there’s my place.”

  Wearily, Elizabeth raised her head. Sure enough, about a dozen yards ahead she spotted the outline of Cooper’s small house.

  Relief almost made her fall to her knees again. This time to give thanks she was still alive.

  • • •

  Never in her whole life had Elizabeth been so happy to take off her clothes. In Cooper’s surprisingly large bathroom, she dropped her soaked jeans and socks on top of her sweater. He’d brought her a pair of thick socks and a set of sweats before saying he was going to build a fire. A small space heater blasted on her frozen toes. Cooper had warned her not to jump into a tub of hot water as she would’ve liked. He said warming too fast was dangerous, but she’d like to test the theory.

  Elizabeth’s body refused to thaw. Bright red goose bumps covered her skin and it felt like a million tiny evil fingers pinched her. Shivering uncontrollably, she slipped Cooper’s enormous gray sweatshirt over her head and pulled the matching bottoms over her hips. The shirt hung almost to her knees and the pant legs bunched around her ankles like an old lady’s pantyhose. Sitting on the toilet seat, she rolled the pants up four or five times and thrust her icy feet into the wool socks Cooper had provided.

  With one last longing glance at the space heater, Elizabeth went into the living room. Cooper was nowhere in sight. He’d already built a fire and it blazed high, throwing sparks up the chimney. She glanced in the kitchen. No sign of him. Mischief got up from her spot near the door and came to sniff Elizabeth’s ankle. “Hi girl. Where’s your master?”

  The dog wiggled her speckled gray body.

  Elizabeth noticed the door to the bedroom. Cooper was probably in there. Curious, she tiptoed to the door and peered in. He stood with this back to her, naked to the waist. She’d already seen the front view, but this side measured up quite nicely. Muscles rippled under his tawny skin. Although already mid-December, he still had last summer’s tan. His jeans rode low on his narrow hips, painting the curves of his butt cheeks and long muscled legs with blue denim. Swallowing hard, Elizabeth couldn’t have spoken if she wanted to.

  When he touched his side, he winced. His ribs. Lost in her own misery, she had completely forgotten his pain. The last few yards to his house had seemed like miles, and he had almost been forced to carry her. Then he’d found her clothes and built a fire. All without a word or whimper. Guilt filled her. It was her turn to help him.

  She moved into the doorway and said, “How badly are you hurt?”

  He whirled around. Elizabeth’s gaze fell to his side. An ugly red mark, the shape of a half-moon, covered part of his chest and abdomen. “Oh, that looks awful. You need a doctor.” She stepped forward and brushed his skin with her index finger. He winced. “Is it as painful as it looks?”

  “Yes.”

  Something in his tone made her look up into his eyes. Heavy-lidded, dark lashed, they watched her like a cat. Elizabeth’s couldn’t catch her breath. She stood caught in his spell. Without a word, he caught the back of her neck with one hand and reeled her in, inch by inch. When their bodies touched, he dipped his head. Tipping up her chin, Elizabeth met him halfway. She expected something feral, fierce. Instead, he touched her lips with feather-light caresses.

  Slowly, she lifted her hands and placed them on his lean hips. A tremor ran through him. Elizabeth parted her lips. The invitation didn’t go unanswered. His tongue met hers, tasting and teasing. With a sigh, she sank against him, wrapping her arms around his waist. He moaned. Feeling the undeniable reaction of a man, and snuggling closer, Elizabeth pressed against him. He moaned again.

  It suddenly occurred to her that it wasn’t a sound of passion, but one of pain.

  She ripped away from him. “I hurt you.”

  “I’m okay.”

  Elizabeth didn’t know what to do with her gaze. If she looked into his eyes, she might be mesmerized again. If she looked at his chest, she’d feel terrible. If she looked below his waist, she knew she’d see evidence of his desire. “Do you have any salve?” She blurted out the first thing that came to her mind.

  “In the bathroom.”

  “I’ll get it.” Elizabeth practically ran there. Shutting the door behind her, she leaned her head against it. Being out in the cold so long tonight must’ve frozen her brain. Cooper had been accused of murdering one of her relatives. Yet, she’d kissed him. Boy, had she. And if his chest wasn’t wearing the imprint of a steering wheel, she would’ve done a lot more.

  Stunned by the thought, she opened the medicine cabinet and mindlessly rummaged through it until she found an ointment that looked like it would work. Holding onto the jar like a lifeline, she opened the door.

  Cooper had moved into the living room and he’d slipped on a plain navy-blue t-shirt. He stood with his hands outstretched to the fire. Again, he had his back to her and her gaze followed the long, lean lines of his body. Elizabeth bit her lip and went toward him. “I found it.”

  He turned to her, and heat leapt low in her belly. The chill that had earlier invaded her bones disappeared. Without a word, his eyes held hers. He lifted his t-shirt. “I need to rub some of it on.”

  Was it her imagination, or was his voice an octave or two lower than normal?

  “I’ll do it.” With trembling hands, she took the medicine and twisted off the lid. Wrinkling her nose as its stinky odor hit her, Elizabeth dipped her fingers in the jar. Carefully, she applied a dab on his torso. He stood statue still as her fingers skimmed his smooth, warm skin. It seemed even his breathing became suspended as her hand mapped his chest. His nipples lay on either side of a trail of light brown hair which led down his belly, disappearing into the waistband of his jeans. She longed to trace that trail with her fingers, her tongue.

  Instead, she carefully followed the path of the bruise with only her fingertips. “What’s your first name?”

  “Cooper’s the only name I use.” He grabbed her hand and held it away from him. Startled, she looked up at his stony face. If possible, his features had sharpened, into an unreadable mask. “This isn’t smart.”

  She jerked her hand away. “I only meant to help.”

  He abruptly turned to the fire and threw another log on it. “Are you warm enough?”

  “Yes. Fine.” She’d heated up all right. Hot from the feel of his skin under her hand, flushed from embarrassment. He didn’t want her to touch him. Of course not. He went for women like Esperanza. Sexy, voluptuous. Not an average Jane like herself.

  “I made coffee. Want some?”

  “If you have cream and lots of sugar.”

  “I’ll get it. Be right back.” Cooper moved to the kitchen, Mischief on his heels.

  Elizabeth stretched her palms toward the fire. A shiver ran through her, a leftover of the night’s adventure, she supposed. For the first time since the wild night had begun, she could think about all of it. “Crazy,” she muttered.

  “Who’s crazy?” Cooper came back into the room.

  “This whole night. The murder. Everything. The world doesn’t make sense right now.”

  He handed her a cup of steaming coffee, then gestured to a small coffee table. “There’s your milk and sugar.”

  “Thanks.” As she stirred ample amounts of both in her cup, Elizabeth continued. “Who do you think ran us off the road tonight?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “But you can make an educated guess,” she pressed.

  “Maybe. Throwing accusations around isn’t going to get us anywhere. I didn’t
get a good enough look at the vehicle to see if I recognized it. And I didn’t get the plates. Even if I had, I doubt it would do any good.”

  “That’s true,” she agreed. “I’d like to have a word with whoever that was, though. I’d give them a piece of my mind, and they wouldn’t like it.”

  “Don’t do it.” Cooper’s voice turned dead serious. “Asking questions, or jumping the wrong person will only get you hurt. Whoever is behind this is obviously willing to go to any lengths to protect themselves. Look at what happened to Lyle.”

  A shudder ran down her backbone of the thought of becoming a murder victim. An image of her mother dead ran through Elizabeth’s mind. In spite of her best intentions not to cry, tears slipped down her face.

  She shook the images away. “I’m so tired.”

  “I made up the spare room for you. Are you ready to turn in?”

  “Thank you.”

  “I’ll show you where everything is,” he said.

  After Cooper led her to the small bedroom, he bade her goodnight and left her with the reassurance she’d be safe. Mischief would alert them if anyone came near the house. Someone sneaking up on them in the night didn’t worry Elizabeth too much.

  The wind rattled the eaves of the house like it was cardboard. If anyone was foolish enough to be lurking in the storm, they would probably be blown to the North Pole. Not to mention, the man in the other bedroom had the ability to do severe bodily damage. Then why had she felt so safe in his arms?

  Chapter 7

  According to the luminous green numbers on Elizabeth’s watch, about two hours had passed. She hadn’t stopped shivering for a single minute. Instead of warming up under the covers, she seemed to get colder by the second. The ceaseless noise of the wind rattling the windows didn’t help either.

  Although not really afraid that someone might try to break in, she was spooked enough by the night’s events that she couldn’t relax. She’d left her door open a crack, and she could see shadows from the fire dancing along one wall. But there was no other movement.