by Pat Warren
“Do you know how to cut hair? It’s not exactly as if I can leave you here and run down the mountain to find a barbershop.”
“I’ve been known to whack away at mine a time or two. Want me to try yours?”
He shivered as her fingers massaged his scalp. “Maybe later. Right now, I have more important things in mind.” He dipped his head and tasted the satin smoothness of her throat.
She let out a sound, half sigh, half moan as his lips moved up to capture her ear. “What are you doing? It’s broad daylight, the middle of the afternoon. We’re in the living room. Shouldn’t we at least move into the bedroom?” Perhaps it was Jones’s visit that had her feeling so suddenly proper.
“Stop being so Catholic school conventional, Theresa Anne. Who cares what time it is? Who needs a bed?” He slid onto the floor, taking her with him, cushioning her slide onto him before he rolled her over and looked down into her surprised eyes. “No one’s watching. It’s okay.”
“But what about Bob’s warning?” She dared him to deny it.
Instead, he chose to ignore it. “Screw Jones and the horse he rode in on.” Moving down her, he settled his mouth on the peaks of her breasts through the silk of her blouse.
She felt the urgent rush of heat, but her practical side was still in charge. “Hey, this is the only decent blouse I presently own.”
Leaning back, Luke gripped the front of her blouse and gave a powerful tug. The buttons went flying and she was exposed to his hungry eyes.
Terry cried out a shocked protest. “You’ve ripped my favorite blouse.”
“I’ll buy you another one.” Working quickly, he yanked off the ragged blouse and the rest of her clothes. Wearing only firelight and the St. George’s medal, she lay before him, breathing hard and looking beautiful. Her eyes were deep blue pools, aroused and aware, watching his every move. “You’re incredible and you damn well know it.” If only that’s all it was, her looks, his lust. He could get past that. But it was far more than that that he couldn’t let go of. The essence of her, this surprising woman who’d so effortlessly turned his world upside down.
He placed his hands on hers and stretched her arms upward, then lowered his head to feast on her breasts, circling and tasting each erect peak until her skin was flushed and her body shimmering with need.
Bob’s words echoed in his fevered brain. You never should have touched her. The chief was absolutely right. Only now, he couldn’t stop. She was like an addiction, a craving, an obsession. He wanted to kick the habit, knew that the best thing for him and for her would be if he could. Yet he couldn’t turn away from her.
His hands moved down her, skimming over heated flesh. She was moving restlessly now, soft sounds coming from low in her throat. His lips trailed lower, a dizzying journey. Guessing his motive, her body arched as his mouth settled on her.
In moments, she cried out with the power of it, the swift intensity of it. She closed her eyes as the afterwaves buffeted her and her pulse pounded with the force of her release.
Slowly, Luke moved back up, wanting to read her reaction in her eyes. The fact that they were filled with shocked pleasure shouldn’t have pleased him so damn much. He stood and quickly pulled off his clothes, lowering to her moments later.
Her chest still heaved as her breathing slowly normalized. She had never known anything quite like this with another man. She reached up to touch his face. “How can I fight the way you make me feel?” The question was a husky whisper.
“Why do you have to?” he asked, kissing her eyes closed.
“Because one day you won’t be with me anymore.” It wasn’t whiny, or accusatory or complaining. It was stated as fact.
He had no answer he could give her. Instead, he knelt, then slipped slowly inside her. He took her mouth in a kiss filled with passion, charged with need, tinged with sadness. He moved with gentle care, with infinite tenderness, giving her physically what he couldn’t give her otherwise.
He held back, watching her give herself up to the sensations, needing to see the changes he could bring about in her. This time she climbed slowly, yet he knew the second she was about to explode. Finally, his vision blurring, he let himself join her.
It wasn’t until long minutes later when he raised his head that he noticed her cheeks were damp with tears.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Nick Russo was wet, tired, and hungry. He’d been driving back from California in a blinding rainstorm after weeks of a fruitless search for some sign of Terry Ryan or Luke Tanner, only to get a frigging flat tire on Highway 10 just outside of Phoenix. He’d pulled off on the shoulder and tried to get someone to stop and give him a ride to the nearest gas station. But at six on a dark, chilly February evening, car after car had whizzed by him, the drivers anxious to get home and not giving a damn if they splashed dirty road water all over him.
Finally, three farmhands in a rickety truck had stopped and told him he could get in the bed of their pickup with their dog if he wanted to. Cursing elaborately and fighting off the stinking dog and coping with a tailgate that threatened to open for the interminable half an hour it took to find a station, he’d almost cheered when he jumped off. From there, he’d paid the attendant to tow in his car and service it, then made a call to one of the guys to come get him. By the time Gino had deposited him at his apartment, Nick was already sneezing.
It took him over an hour to warm up in a hot shower, get into dry clothes, have a big plate of spaghetti with clam sauce, and calm down. Now, looking at the phone, he was feeling nervous again.
He hadn’t been in touch with Sam since he’d left town. He’d intended to drive straight through to Florence and visit his brother on his way back as they’d arranged, but the unexpected storm had slowed him and soaked him. The average guy would understand normal delays. Sam Russo wasn’t your average guy.
Nick emptied his wineglass, lit a cigarette, and picked up the phone, wondering if they’d even call Sam to the phone this late. The minutes dragged on, but finally he heard Sam’s terse hello.
“Hey, Sam, it’s me, Nick.”
“Where the hell are you?” At the wall phone in Corridor C where the call had been transferred, Sam’s cool gaze stayed on the guard waiting and watching him less than ten feet away. He listened to his brother’s explanation of why he hadn’t shown up, and snorted. “Must be nice, driving for hours in the sunshine, enjoying the view, probably with some broad draped over your lap.”
Nick blew smoke toward the ceiling and swallowed down his temper. “Didn’t you hear me? It’s raining like crazy. I was alone and I got soaked through to the skin.” As if to emphasize his point, Nick sneezed.
“I wouldn’t know, little brother. My hotel room don’t have no windows.”
Feeling bad, Nick shook his head. “I wish I could get you out of there, Sam. I tried, for weeks, but nothing panned out in California.”
Sam’s fist hit the wall with a thud. The guard straightened, sending him a stern look. “Sorry. I slipped.” He turned his back on the guard and spoke low into the mouthpiece, his voice muffled. “You tell the man he’s got two weeks, till the fifteenth of February. Nothing happens by then to spring me, I start singing.”
“That ain’t gonna get you out, Sam.”
“Maybe not, but I’ll go down with company. Either he does something or you locate the lady. My final offer.”
“What? Tell me what else I can do.” Nick’s voice had become high-pitched in his anxiety. He drew deeply on his cigarette, trying to calm his nerves. Fleetingly, he wondered if the phones the prisoners used were bugged.
Frustration coiled in Sam’s stomach, turning his dinner sour. “You seen Ozzie?”
“We can count him out. Says he tried, but he’s sick and tired. He’s back south of the border.”
“Shit! That tears it.” Sam turned and saw the guard motioning that his time was up. “Fourteen days, Nickie. Find her.” He slammed the phone down. Eyes bitter, fists clenched, he marched back to his cell.
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Nick replaced the receiver, got up, and poured himself a generous splash of Jim Beam. He tossed it back, then grimaced. He could make another call or two, but would it get him anywhere? Feeling chilled despite his warm robe and the booze, he sat back down and riffled through the messages the boys had taken for him while he’d been gone.
One stood out, making him sit up straighter. The idea came to him slowly, but surely. He smiled. Yeah, it just might work. No, it had to work. He had to get Sam out of that hellhole. Thoughtfully, he crushed out his cigarette in the glass ashtray.
Getting up, he went into his bedroom, feeling better than he had in hours. Tomorrow, he would make his move.
“So, what do you think?” Terry asked, holding up two packages of hair dye. “Should I go light brown or dark?”
Luke looked up from the kitchen table where he’d been cleaning his guns. “I don’t think you should bother with either. Your hair’s growing out just fine.”
Terry’s brows raised in question. “Just a few days ago, everyone wanted me to surgically alter my face. Now you don’t even want me to change the color of my hair? What’s going on?”
Luke went back to his oily rag. “I don’t plan on taking you off this mountain until the trial date. And then we’ll probably get a helicopter in and fly home that way. So there’s no need.” He’d made this decision in the middle of the night, lying in bed holding her. He was taking no chances he didn’t have to take.
“You mean we can’t even go into town, to have a meal or to shop, until this is over?”
“What for? We have enough supplies here to last quite awhile. It’ll be over soon. I talked with Bob and he’s working on getting the case moved up on the docket.”
She pulled out a chair opposite him and sat down. “What if someone drives up here and sees me?”
“They won’t get close enough to see you.” Squinting, he peered into the barrel of the gun, checking for clearance. “I’ll blow them away before they get too near.”
“You’re kidding, I hope.”
His eyes slid to hers. “You think so?”
Hers widened. “You mean you’d actually shoot someone to protect me?”
“In a New York minute, honey. That’s what this is all about.” He gave her a tight smile. “But don’t worry, because no one will come up here.”
The shock of it had her reeling. “You mean someone like Nick Russo or Ozzie Swain, or one of their men, right? You wouldn’t shoot a stranger who wandered off course, would you?” Did she know this man at all, this man she’d been sleeping with, sharing her body with, giving her heart to?
“Depends.” He held the Luger, balancing it in one hand as if testing the weight. “If I couldn’t persuade him to leave, I might have to use one of these to convince him.”
He sounded so cold-blooded, so menacing. Even in bed, she’d noticed that the predator in Luke was held in check only by his iron control. She remembered the incident in the drugstore, when the distraught mother had called for help with her small son. Luke’s first instinct had been to grab Terry and run. She’d had to persuade him that there was no devious plot, that they had to try to save that child. At times, they were miles apart in their thinking. Where she sensed mostly good, even after all that had happened to her, he always saw something sinister.
He’d lived his entire life on the edge with danger a constant companion, even in his early years. Terry sensed an ever-present, dormant anger in him and wondered if it was something Luke could ever overcome.
From the beginning, she’d suspected nothing permanent would ever come of their relationship. Instinctively, she’d known that loving a man like Luke Tanner, who thrived on a violent profession, was something most women would have trouble adjusting to. Brought up in a devoted home and knowing only kindness and affection all of her life, his way was foreign to her.
Yet, Lord, how she wanted him, how she loved him, even though, if a miracle happened and things worked out, she wondered if she could accept his way of life.
A moot question, for it wasn’t going to happen, she reminded herself, watching him slip the .38 back into his beltline. Wearing a gun was as much a part of him as the color of his eyes. “You’re never going to give up this line of work, are you, Luke?” she asked softly.
He shrugged, wondering what to say since he wasn’t sure of the answer himself. “You’re thinking I’m addicted to guns and issuing orders and playing cops and robbers?”
“Aren’t you?”
“Only on assignment. I’m different at my ranch. I’m relaxed there, no responsibilities, no one to guard or criminals to watch out for. Only me and my dog and hard physical work.”
She didn’t buy it. “Tell me, do you have a gun on your person even as you’re working around your ranch?”
Slowly, his eyes met hers. “I’ve pissed off a lot of people in my day, put a lot of guys behind bars, some of whom serve their time and get released. Anyone persistent enough could find me. Should I be a sitting duck for every dirtbag who wants to settle a score?”
Terry shook her head. “No, of course not. But you see what I mean? Even when you’re not officially on a case, you’re always on guard. You have to be. The danger never ends.”
He placed the Luger in the shoulder holster he rarely used, then leaned back. He saw an opportunity and knew he’d be a fool not to take it. “That’s right, it never ends. Never will. That’s why I live alone, why no one could live with me. That’s why everyone I’ve ever known who tried to live with me left. They were smart to do so.” He stood, picking up the holster, his eyes cool as he looked at her. It was time he laid it out for her, time he set her straight. Wanting her with him wasn’t enough, wasn’t right for her. He’d have to let her go and there was only one way. “Let that be a lesson to you, Terry. Don’t build your dreams around me.”
She blinked against her first reaction, not wanting him to see how deeply he’d plunged in the knife. “What if I already have?”
Luke huffed out a sigh. “You shouldn’t have. You don’t know me, not really. I come with a ton of baggage, all of it bad. There’s a reason why all those people left me. If you lived with me long enough, you’d find out why. And you’d leave, too. It’s just a matter of time.”
She frowned, truly astonished. “Is that really what you think, that I’d leave, too?” It was a thought that hadn’t occurred to her full blown until now. “Is that why you’re pulling back? Your job isn’t the real reason for this, is it? It’s your background, your past. But you forget that I’ve lived with you for months now, under the worst possible circumstances. What more could I discover that would turn me away?”
He shook his head, annoyed that he’d somehow lost control of the conversation. “You wouldn’t understand if I told you.”
“I won’t understand or you can’t think of a good explanation?”
That made him mad. “All right, I’ll explain. I’m probably more like my dear old dad than I like to think. Walk away from commitments without a backward glance. Pursue my own agenda and to hell with what anyone else wants. I’m selfish, egocentric, and self-indulgent. And I’m not about to change.”
His assessment was way off. “That’s not so. You help others in everything you do. Daily, you risk your life for the person you’re protecting. You give up being at your ranch which you enjoy to help others. You…”
“Are you going to let me continue? You asked for my explanation, remember?”
She sat back. “All right, go ahead.”
“Then there’s my mother. What kind of a child must I have been that my mother—and we all know that mothers are supposed to love you no matter what—walked away without a backward glance? What kind of a nasty little boy couldn’t win over his own mother?”
Terry heard his voice falter just a little and felt her heart break for the child he’d been, unloved and unwanted for so long that he’d begun to shoulder the blame. “That’s her loss far more than yours. We all know that all mothers aren’t
what they’re supposed to be.”
“How about my grandmother? And Jill? Two more women, both claiming to care, both taking a hike when they got tired or the going got rough. Say what you will, I’m not good for the long haul. I’d be stupid to try again.”
For long moments, Terry stared at him as he thrust his hands into his pockets, his eyes downcast. Then she gave in to a burst of anger that had been building slowly as he’d stated his case. “How dare you judge me by the way others treated you.” She saw his eyes raise to her, a scowl forming. “What makes you think you know me so well? Did you ever ask, did you ever question me? They all left and so it stands to reason in your warped little mind that I would. How very fair-minded of you.”
Unable to sit still, Terry jumped up, pacing as her outrage grew. “You don’t give a damn about my feelings. You’ve never even inquired how I feel. You took one look at me and, in your infinite wisdom, came to the only conclusion, the one you always come to: you’re unlovable, incorrigible, impossible. Therefore, no one, including me, would stay with you. So, to protect yourself from being hurt again, you build a damn wall around yourself and you don’t let anyone in. But I got in, didn’t I, Luke? I broke through, I got close and now you’re really scared. This has nothing to do with your job or the danger involved. You want to strike first, to say good-bye before I do, because you’re so certain I will.”
Luke was gritting his teeth together so hard he thought they might crack. He glared at her silently, unable to come up with a good response.
“You didn’t take into account my background, the kind of person I am or… or…”
He felt weary to the bone. He just wanted to get this over with. He hadn’t had the faintest idea how difficult it would be when he’d started. “Or what?” he demanded.
“Or the fact that I love you.” Shocked that she’d said the one thing she’d vowed not to, Terry stood with hands on her hips, her lower lip trembling.
Stunned to hear her say the words, Luke swallowed. “What did you say?”
