Extreme Exposure

by Pamela Clare

  The sun was shining, and the air was fresh and biting cold. Tall bare aspen thrust white trunks out of the snow, their branches a lacy froth against the blue sky. In the distance the fourteen-thousand-foot-high peaks that made up the backbone of the Rockies glittered white in the sunlight.

  He showed her the natural hot springs that bubbled up from deep in the earth into a pool carved into rock by millennia of erosion. He showed her the wild raspberry patch that yielded its harvest to chipmunks and hungry bears every summer. And he showed her his father’s grave, the headstone half buried in snow.

  As they walked, Reece told her how they’d found the property through the friend of a friend, who was trying to unload it before moving back to Texas. They’d spent the next summer camping in a tent by night and building by day. Over the years, they’d finished the interior and made or purchased furnishings.

  “We spent every summer for fifteen years making the cabin better, more comfortable, caring for the property.” There was both grief and pride in his voice as he spoke.

  “It shows. When you said ‘cabin,’ I was expecting some drafty pile of logs decorated with antlers and stuffed animal heads.”

  Reece grinned from beneath his sunglasses. “Disappointed are you? I could shoot a few things and hang them on the wall if you like.”

  “No thanks. Let the critters keep their heads.”

  They drank coffee on top of a large outcropping of rocks that looked out over a valley of snowy white. A herd of elk moved like brown dots in the distance, pawing for forage beneath the snow, nibbling bark off the trees.

  Kara felt herself relax, let her gaze wander across the landscape—a landscape so wide and open that it kindled a strange ache in her soul. “It’s so peaceful here, so quiet.”

  He pulled her back to rest against him, kissed her hair. “My father had planned to live up here after he retired.”

  “I’m sorry he never got the chance.”

  “Me, too.”

  “You must miss him terribly.”

  “Yeah.”

  They were almost back to the cabin when Reece motioned for her to stop and crouched down to look at the snow. “Mountain lion tracks.”

  “Really?” Startled, Kara looked around her, and then stared down at the paw prints in the snow. “Have you ever seen them here before?”

  He chuckled. “All the time. There’s an old male who counts this as part of his territory. I’ve seen him a few times—a big cat. Probably one hundred and eighty pounds. Every once in a while I come across the carcass of a mule deer he’s brought down.”

  A shiver ran down Kara’s spine. Apart from skiing and the occasional hike, she was strictly a city person. Wildlife to her meant squirrels. “Has it ever tried to attack you?”

  He shook his head. “Mountain lions aren’t interested in people. They do everything they can to stay out of our way.”

  “How do you know all this? Oh, that’s right. You’re the environmental senator, the tree-hugger. How could I forget? You’ve probably studied all of Colorado’s wildlife.”

  “That’s right. I’ve read about their habitat needs, their hunting habits—their mating habits.”

  “Mating habits?”

  “Yes, mating habits.” He stood and circled her like a predator, his voice dropping to a growl. “The male mountain lion finds the female by scent.”

  Kara heard snow crunch behind her and felt the thrill of being stalked. His hand slid beneath her coat and inside her jeans, his cold fingers drawing a gasp as they touched her skin and again when they sought and found her most sensitive spot.

  “He knows when she’s primed to mate, knows when she’s ready for him.”

  Kara was ready for him now. She pressed her behind into him and knew from the iron bulge in his pants that he was ready, too.

  “The male outweighs her by a good seventy pounds.” He jerked down her jeans, kicked off her snowshoes, nipped the side of her throat with his teeth. “When he finds her, he bites her neck and forces her head to the ground.”

  With a moan of anticipation, she let him force her to her knees, her gloved hands sinking to the wrists in the snow. Behind her came the sound of metal buttons being wrenched out of denim buttonholes.

  “Then he mounts her from behind, fast and rough.” His hands grasped her hips, and he sank into her with a single, powerful thrust.

  Words became gasps and moans and whimpers as he hammered himself into her, his balls slapping against the chilled skin of her bare ass.

  Kara had never climaxed like this before, so the power of it when it hit her took her by surprise. A wild cry tore itself from her throat, followed by his deep groan as he came inside her, both sounds swallowed by the vastness of the Colorado winter.

  KARA LOST track of the number of times they had sex over the next two days. On the couch, in the shower, on the bedroom floor, on the kitchen table, in the hot springs. She kept expecting the fierceness of her need for him to die down to something manageable. But it didn’t. All he had to do was touch her. Sometimes he didn’t even have to do that.

  It wasn’t until Sunday night as they lazed naked in the steaming waters of the hot springs that she realized that she hadn’t once hooked up her laptop, checked cell phone messages, or checked her e-mail. She’d called her mother to check on Connor only once.

  Now it was almost over. By tomorrow evening, she and Reece would be back in Denver, where real life waited for them. And then what?

  She didn’t want to think about that.

  She snuggled into him, watched fat snowflakes drift idly from the dark sky and melt on the surface of the water, her body replete and relaxed as warm honey from their latest bout of crazed sex. His strong arm fit so naturally beneath her breasts. Her head felt so at home on his shoulder. Why couldn’t they stay like this forever?

  “Reece.”

  He kissed her hair, which was damp from the steam. “Mmm.”

  “Thank you. For all of this. I can’t remember when I’ve ever had a better time.”

  He held her a bit closer and nuzzled her ear. “You’re welcome.”

  “Whatever happens, I want you to know that I’ll always remember this.”

  “I’m counting on it.”

  BY THE time they hit the outskirts of Denver, Kara felt the tension begin to return. Her mind began to fill with all the things she needed to do when she got back to the paper tomorrow, each task like an irritating grain of sand.

  Reece took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “What’s on your mind?”

  “Work.”

  “Can you talk about it?”

  She shook her head. “Not yet.”

  “You’re damned good at what you do.”

  The compliment was unexpected. “Thanks.”

  “I hope you’ll find time to squeeze me in. I want to see more of you, Kara. I don’t know exactly what’s happening between us or where it will lead, but I do know I want to be with you.”

  This was the conversation she’d been dreading. “It’s not just my job. There’s Connor. I don’t want him to get the wrong idea.”

  “And what idea is that?”

  She searched for the words. “He’s a vulnerable little boy. With no father . . . I don’t want him to get hurt. If we become involved—”

  “We’re not involved now?”

  “Not like that.”

  “Then what were these past three days?” There was an edge to his voice now.

  “A weekend.”

  “That’s all it was to you? A weekend?”

  She couldn’t lie. “No. It was more than that, Reece. It was . . . wonderful.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  “The problem is that I have a son who will be crushed when you decide you’ve had enough of the two of us and vanish.”

  “I see.” Anger churned in Reece’s gut. She was pushing him away. Already she was pushing him away.

  “I’m not sure you do. I can’t let my needs or desires hurt my
son. That’s all. I don’t want to be the kind of single mom who has a revolving door on her bedroom.”

  He took a deep breath, determined not to let their time together end with an argument. “You’re not that kind of woman, Kara. Spending a weekend with me doesn’t make you that kind of woman. You deserve a life, you know.”

  They finished the drive in silence, Reece biting back his frustration. He pulled into her driveway, the sun already starting to set over the mountains, now a purple outline on the western horizon. They met at the back of the Jeep. But rather than opening the tailgate and removing her bag, he pulled her into his arms.

  “I’m not going anywhere, Kara. And I won’t let you push me out of your life just because you’re afraid.” He silenced her objections with a kiss and felt her response as she softened in his arms and kissed him back.

  No, he wasn’t going anywhere.

  “I don’t suppose you’re going to let me carry my own bag, are you?”

  “Nope.”

  She led the way to the door, slid in her key, unlocked it, pushed it open.

  And froze.

  CHAPTER 15

  * * *

  REECE HEARD Kara’s gasp and saw the shocked disbelief on her face. Beyond her, he saw the cause.

  “Oh, my God!” She took a step to go inside.

  He slipped an arm around her waist and restrained her. “No, Kara! Whoever did this might still be in there. Back inside the Jeep. Come on.”

  He guided her back to his vehicle, tossed her bag in the back, and then called 911 on his cell phone. “Break-in and possible burglary at 1105 Corona. We’re not sure if the intruder is still here. We just arrived to find the place trashed.”

  He started the engine, backed the car out of the driveway, and parked a few houses down the street. If someone was in there, someone who wanted to hurt Kara, Reece was going to make damn sure she didn’t present an easy target.

  Kara heard Reece speaking with police dispatch, but his words barely registered. Her mind raced, fragmented thoughts shooting rapid-fire through her mind as if in time to her pulse. Someone had torn her home apart. Someone had broken in and destroyed it. They had intruded into her life, into her home. They had probably taken her TV and stereo. Well, those she could replace. At least no one was hurt. Yes, she could replace everything. Her insurance would cover it. It would be all right. She would clean the place up, file an insurance claim, and it would be fine.

  Even as she tried to come to grips with it, tried to soothe herself, a clammy finger drew itself down her spine. What if he had done this? What if he had been trying to make good on his threats?

  “It will be okay, Kara.” Reece gave her hand a squeeze, his blue eyes full of concern. “They’re on their way.”

  By the time the three squad cars arrived, lights flashing, Kara had gone from being shocked to boiling mad. She paced the sidewalk while they cleared the house. “I want to punch someone!”

  Reece stepped into her path and presented his torso as a target. “Okay, but not too hard. I bruise easily.”

  The absurdity of his pretending that she could physically hurt him stopped her in her tracks and broke through some of her rage. “I don’t want to hit you. Damn it!”

  He took her in his arms. “I know, sweetheart.”

  A drab olive-green car pulled to the curb, and she recognized Chief Irving. He hoisted his girth out from behind the steering wheel and strode over to them, notepad in hand. “Senator. Ms. McMillan. Sorry to be meeting with you under these circumstances. Can you bring me up to date?”

  Omitting certain details, Kara described how she’d gone away Friday night and had just arrived home to find that someone had broken in. She told him how Reece had prevented her from entering the house.

  “But I’d really like to go inside as soon as I can, Chief Irving. It’s my home.”

  Chief Irving nodded. “I understand, Ms. McMillan, but right now your home is a crime scene. When we’re done, you’ll be free to go inside. And quick thinking, Senator. You never want to enter a home that’s been burglarized until after the police have cleared it. People end up dead that way. Now let me see what our boys have found.”

  The minutes seemed to stretch into hours as Kara waited, Reece beside her. She called her mother on her cell and asked her to keep Connor one more night to give her time to make her house safe again.

  Her mother agreed and offered Kara her couch for the night. “You don’t want to sleep there, Kara. All that bad juju won’t be good for you.”

  “Thanks, Mom, but it’s going to take all night to clean this place up. I’ll probably be too tired to make it to Boulder.”

  “Then make sure you burn some sage or something.”

  Kara saw Chief Irving walk out her front door, headed in her direction. “Burn sage. Got it. Thanks, Mom.” She hung up, found Reece smiling at her. “What?”

  “Your mom really loves you, you know.”

  “Yeah. She’s just a bit crazy.”

  Chief Irving flipped to the next page in his notepad. “Well, Ms. McMillan, we’ll need you to comb through the place and tell us if anything was stolen.”

  “So it looks like a routine burglary to you?” She’d probably overreacted earlier when her imagination had tried to tie it to the phone calls.

  Chief Irving met her gaze. “I didn’t say that. But come on in and tell us if you find anything missing. And be prepared for a mess.”

  The chief’s warning did nothing to prepare Kara for the shock of seeing so much of what she owned broken and in a shambles. The television lay in shattered pieces on top of broken picture frames, shredded books, and cracked CDs. Her VCR, DVD player, and stereo were reduced to components and snapped wires. Papers and newspaper clippings from her filing cabinet were strewn everywhere, the contents of her desk drawers beside them. Wads of fluffy white stuffing from her couch lay like snow across this landscape of destruction.

  The kitchen was a bit better than the living room. The window above the sink was shattered and pried open, glass littering the floor. And although some dishes lay broken, the intruder hadn’t opened her cupboards to smash all of them. An ice cream container sat empty on the counter next to the refrigerator.

  She stared into the darkness of her backyard through the open hole that used to be a window. “Well, I guess that new lock worked. He didn’t get in through the sliding glass door.”

  Down the hall, she found her bedroom ransacked, as if someone had gone through every drawer looking for something. Clothes from her closet lay strewn across the floor. Her mattress was slashed open and lay sideways, half on the floor and half on the box springs. Her jewelry box, which had held nothing but earrings and a clip of baby hair from Connor’s first haircut, lay open on the carpet. The panic button, which she’d left behind, sat oddly untouched amid the chaos.

  Then she spied purple. Humiliated, she kicked a sweater on top of her vibrator and prayed neither Reece nor the cops had seen it.

  Reece’s voice startled her. “Whoever did this left Connor’s room alone. Have you found anything missing?”

  She shook her head. “No. Nothing.”

  She didn’t have to be a detective to realize what that meant. This was anything but a routine burglary. This was personal.

  Chief Irving was waiting for them downstairs in the kitchen. One gloved officer was busy dusting for fingerprints, the black dust like ink blotches on the window, the refrigerator, the ice cream container.

  “Why don’t you have a seat, Ms. McMillan? Can we get you anything? Something to drink?”

  Kara swallowed and met the detective’s gaze. “I’m fine standing.”

  “Here’s the way I see it, Ms. McMillan. Our guy shows up while you’re gone. He can’t get in through the sliding glass door so he breaks the window. He doesn’t steal anything. In fact, he makes himself at home—sits down with a pint of Ben & Jerry’s, eats a few granola bars, a bag of tortilla chips, perhaps watches some television, maybe even takes a piss. You don�
��t leave the seat up, do you? Then he decides to break stuff. And when he’s done breaking stuff, he leaves. Now why does he do that, Ms. McMillan?”

  Kara noticed the granola bar wrappers and the empty bag of chips on the floor and wondered why she hadn’t noticed them earlier. Think, McMillan! You’re an investigative reporter, remember? “He was searching for something and got hungry. He must have felt he had time enough to eat. Then, when he couldn’t find what he was looking for, he got angry and destroyed my belongings.”

  “What would he be looking for, Ms. McMillan?”

  “Whistleblower videotapes. State health department documents.”

  Then Reece spoke. “Or maybe he hung around so long because he was waiting.”

  “Waiting for what?”

  His hands cupped her shoulders. “For you.”

  IT WAS almost midnight. The police had gone. The insurance adjustor had come and gone, promising a check by mid-week. Only Reece remained.

  He’d stayed with her to help her clean up the place. Now the trash can outside was full to overflowing with the shattered remains of Kara’s belongings, several trash bags that didn’t fit sitting beside it. The couch and her mattress sat on the curb awaiting pickup by the city. Her clothes had been folded and put away or hung back in the closet. The floor had been swept and the kitchen floor mopped to remove glass slivers.

  Behind Kara, Reece used his electric drill to tighten a bolt that held a sheet of wood in place over the broken kitchen window. “It’s not pretty, but it will keep out both thugs and cold air until the glass is replaced.”

  She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling strangely dull and chilled. “Thanks.”

  Reece unplugged the drill and turned to find Kara standing in the middle of her almost empty living room, arms hugged tightly around herself, dark ponytail hanging down her back. She looked vulnerable, despondent. Apart from her bout of temper while she was waiting for the police to let her into her own home, she had shown almost no emotion. It had been hard enough for him to see what the son of a bitch had done to her belongings. He’d felt enraged. If she and Connor had been home when the bastard had struck . . . He didn’t want to think about it.