by Pamela Clare
Yes, she loved him, and she was pretty sure he loved her, too, even if he hadn't told her so. There was simply no way a man could fake the kind of caring he'd shown her each and every day--the way he protected her, the way he'd held her last night when she'd been afraid, the way he made love to her.
And yet he'd made her no promises. He'd been careful to let her know that he couldn't make promises. Even so, she refused to worry about it. She didn't want to undermine the connection they'd made these past few days with negative thoughts. She'd given herself to him knowing that he might pull away. She still believed she'd done the right thing. It had been the only way to reach him, the only way she could think of to help him restore harmony in his heart.
And if you're pregnant?
If she was pregnant, she'd have a baby for Gabe. And she would love that baby forever, whether Gabe was in her life or not.
Clearing her mind, she sorted through the remaining documents, pulled out a surface-water survey, and began to read.
THAT'S HOW GABE found her, highlighter in hand, gaze on some official-looking piece of paper, a thoughtful frown on her face. He'd worried about her all day and had known without asking that she was still thinking about last night's visit from the coyote. To be truthful, he'd found the whole thing to be damned eerie, particularly given what she'd told him. Though he was a man of science and wanted to believe this was all freakish coincidence--coyote crossings, coyote nightmares, late-night coyote visitors--he couldn't help but wonder whether there wasn't something to this coyote business.
He dropped an armful of wood on the dwindling woodpile. "Find anything?"
Whatever she was cooking, it smelled like heaven.
She looked up, shook her head, dark circles beneath her eyes. "No. And that's what bothers me. There's nothing in this file to explain what's happened at the butte--no history, no mention of artifacts, no indication that the city even knew Indian people used the land."
That was strange.
"Those things should definitely be there. The file must be incomplete." He walked back outside for another armload, shutting the door behind him, his gaze shifting to the western horizon.
The temp was dropping fast, and dark storm clouds were moving in from the northwest. Within the hour, they'd be in the midst of a blizzard. That's why Gabe had shifted priorities from worrying about Kat--and ogling her discreetly while she'd worked--to chopping firewood. He'd wanted to bring in as much wood as possible before the storm hit. As long as they were warm, he and Kat could ride out whatever the mountains could throw at them. And he had all kinds of ideas about how to pass the time while the storm raged. He filled his arms with firewood, walked around to the front door, and nudged it open with his boot.
She was standing by the stove, stirring what could only be beef stew. "You say those documents should be in the file. Do you know that for sure?"
He dropped the load of wood, glanced into the pot, his mouth watering. "Are you making frybread? 'Cuz you know I love your frybread, honey."
She rolled her eyes, a smile tugging at her lips. "Yes, I am making frybread. Only crazy people eat stew without frybread."
He grinned, ducked down, and kissed her nose. "Got to check in with Darcangelo and get more wood. Snow is about to fly."
By the time he'd made the call and gotten the last load in, the storm had begun and they'd lost electricity for the night. Kat had already lit a few lanterns and was kneading dough, a skillet of oil heating on the stove.
"It's coming down pretty hard already. I'd say we're in for a genuine Rocky Mountain blizzard." He stripped off his gloves, parka, and boots, then walked over to the sink and washed his hands. "I'm betting we'll get at least a foot."
She took her lump of kneaded dough and began to divide it into little balls. "Is that what you would call 'sick powder'?"
He knew she wanted to talk about the Mesa Butte file, but she wasn't pestering him. She'd asked the question, and unlike most women he knew, she trusted him to answer it. That was just another thing he'd discovered that he loved about her. "I see you're getting the lingo down."
She smiled, took up one of the little balls, and began to stretch it into a tortilla shape. "I have no choice but to learn it being around you. Otherwise I might never know what you're talking about."
"I'm glad you've accepted that." He laughed, drew out a chair, and sat, watching the delicate motions of her hands as she worked the dough. He could get used to having her cook for him, to sharing all of his meals with her. He could get used to a lot of things where Kat was concerned--if he let himself.
You haven't told her you love her.
No, he hadn't, but that's only because he was a damned coward. He'd get to it eventually. It's not like either one of them was going anywhere. There'd be plenty of time to talk about all that stuff whenever he found the cojones to do it.
He reached for the Mesa Butte folder, which she'd set aside on a chair, and began to look through it. Groundwater studies. Property-line surveys. Noxious weed surveys. Four prairie-dog population counts. Raptor studies. But nothing having to do with the cultural history of Mesa Butte. When he finished, he dropped it on the table. "This file is definitely incomplete."
The sound of sizzling filled the room as Kat put the first piece of bread on to fry. "How can you be certain?"
"When the city buys a piece of property, one of the first things it does is conduct a survey of cultural resources. A historian researches its recorded history, while an archaeologist does a survey on the land looking for artifacts. Depending on what they find, the city is required to make sure those cultural resources are preserved. In the case of Mesa Butte, that job falls to Mountain Parks."
She turned the sizzling, bubbling bread over, glancing back at him. "So, if there's no archaeological survey or historical study in the file--"
"Then someone in the city government removed them."
"If this is true, then whoever removed them has broken state law. The newspaper will sue. Are you absolutely certain?"
"Absolutely one hundred percent certain."
KAT HAD JUST lost her third straight game of checkers when Gabe leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms over his chest, and looked at her through narrowed eyes. "You're not into this game, are you?"
Outside the wind howled, the sound reminding her of the coyote's call.
"I'm sorry." Kat handed Gabe back the few black pieces she'd managed to steal from him. "I guess I'm a bit preoccupied."
He handed her the red. "This wouldn't have anything to do with Mesa Butte, would it?"
His tone of voice made her laugh. "I know we can't do anything about it tonight, and I know we've already talked it out. I just feel bad that I didn't realize the file was incomplete sooner. I remember wondering about it last Thursday, but I forgot--"
"Is that the same Thursday where your workday was cut short by near cardiac arrest? Because if it is, I think you're being way too hard on yourself."
It was, of course, that same Thursday. Kat had stopped reading the file because she'd been sick, though she hadn't known it at the time. She hadn't gotten back to it till today. "I see your point. But this isn't just about getting a story, and it isn't just about me or my safety. It's about finding the person who killed Grandpa Red Crow and who plundered Mesa Butte. It's about protecting my people's right to pray in peace. I'm an investigative journalist. If I don't do my job right ..."
He reached across the table and took her hand, stroking her knuckles with his thumb. "You're doing everything you can. Tomorrow morning, I'll call Mountain Parks and get the name of the archaeologist. Then we'll track him down and see if we can get the information straight from him."
Kat nodded, drew a deep breath, resolving to put it out of her mind for the night. They had a plan, and it was a solid plan. And there wasn't anything more she could do about it until tomorrow.
"What you need to take your mind off this is a new game." Gabe folded the game board, picked up the checkers, and put the
m back in the battered box. "And I have the perfect game in mind."
"HERE ARE THE rules." Gabe had no idea how she'd react, but it was worth a try. "Take your three little scraps of paper, and write a sexual fantasy you have on each one. It can be something you want me to do to you, or something you want to do me, or even something you want us to do together, like a role-playing game--teacher and schoolgirl or caveman and cavewoman or cowboy"--he winked--"and captive Indian maiden."
Kat gaped at him openmouthed.
"We'll roll the dice to see who draws first. Then we get naked, and whatever gets picked out of the ski hat is what we do."
She closed her mouth, and her eyes narrowed. "And what are the objectives of this little game of yours and how does one determine the winner?"
"Well, that's the cool thing about this game. It's one where no one wins and everyone wins. But the objective of the game is simple." He leaned across the table, looked straight into her eyes and smiled. "Intense. Sexual. Pleasure."
Her pupils dilated. "Wh-what if one of us writes something down that the other one doesn't feel comfortable doing?"
"That's another one of the rules--all players must agree to be open-minded." He could see that she was wondering exactly how open-minded he would expect her to be.
You probably should've left the role-playing thing out, douche bag.
Too late now.
He reached out, took her hand, brought it to his lips. "Trust me, okay?"
"Okay." Looking somewhat apprehensive, she took her three strips of paper and a pen and walked over to the dimly lit corner.
Gabe quickly filled out his slips of paper, folded them, and dropped them in the ski hat. Then he undressed and stretched across the bed and waited--and waited. She was probably trying to come up with three fantasies and then worrying that he'd think she was too kinky. Finally, she turned around and, nibbling on her pen, walked over to the ski hat and dropped her three slips of paper inside.
She looked over at him, her gaze traveling over him. "I thought we're supposed roll the dice before getting naked."
Gabe grinned. "How about we skip the dice, and you draw first?"
Looking more than a little nervous, she turned her back to him, drew her sweater over her head, took off her bra, then shimmied out of her skirt. Then she caught her panties with her thumbs, wiggling her sweet ass as she drew them down, bending almost to the floor, giving him a glimpse of paradise, all the while looking back at him over her shoulder.
His heart gave a thud, his dick rising to attention.
So his rez girl had a playful side. He liked that.
Then she stood upright and walked naked to the table, her long hair hiding her breasts from him. She drew a slip of paper from the hat, unfolded it--and turned beet red, her eyes going wide, her gaze flying to meet his.
"Read it. Out loud." Gabe watched her, pretty certain what the slip of paper said and trying to gauge her reaction. He could tell by the way she hesitated that she was shocked by the idea. But the way her breathing had quickened and her nipples had instantly drawn tight told him she also found it arousing.
"It says ... 'Kat lets Gabe make love to her ... with his mouth.' "
Kat looked up from the piece of paper, watched a sexy grin spread slowly across Gabe's face, her pulse skipping. "Y-you really want to do that?"
In one fluid motion, he rose off the bed to his feet. "Remember what I said that afternoon when I was drunk?"
"You said a lot of things." And she remembered them all.
"I said I'd suck your clit till you came. I said I'd make you scream. Well, I've thought about going down on you every day since that day we met at the restaurant. The need to taste you has kept me awake at night, and, honey, tonight I get lucky."
He scooped her into his arms, and laid her out on the table, knocking his ski hat to the floor with an impatient swipe of his arm, folded bits of paper scattering across the polished wood. Without giving her a chance to breathe, he kissed her hard, cupping her breasts with both hands, roughing her nipples with his thumbs. Then his mouth dropped to her breasts, as he sucked, licked and nipped his way down her body, teeth and lips and tongue raising goose bumps on her skin, making her shiver.
Was he really going to do this? The thought that he actually wanted to put his mouth on her shocked her--but not as much as it made her burn. And she was burning, anticipation licking through her like flames, his lips scorching her skin. Then his tongue dipped into her navel, circling her, flicking her, making her think of what it would feel like to have it stroking her in other places. That thought unleashed a flood between her thighs, leaving her wet for him.
"God, Kat, your scent--it's driving me insane!" He sank to his knees between her legs, kissed her low on her belly. Then he lifted her legs and draped them over his shoulders, parting her gently with his fingers, his gaze fixed on the most private part of her, a look of raw male hunger on his face. "I've wanted to taste you for so long."
Barely able to breathe, she watched as he settled his mouth against her and gave her clitoris a teasing flick, the sensation like nothing she'd felt before.
She gasped, curled her fingers reflexively in his hair. "Oh, Gabe, I--"
But whatever she'd been about to say unraveled on a moan as he licked her again--one slow drag of his tongue--then drew her into the heat of his mouth.
Kat was lost in a rush of pleasure, her arousal almost unbearable as Gabe gave her his most intimate kiss, his tongue stroking her, flicking her, nudging her entrance, his lips tugging on her aching clitoris. She arched, thrashed, not in control of her own motions or the sounds that were coming from her throat.
Then a strong arm came down across her hips, pinning her down, holding her in place for his mouth, his rhythm relentless, orgasm already building inside her, a tight, reckless ache. Every nerve ending in her body sizzled, her lungs struggling for breath, her body straining, her fingers fisted in his hair as she fought to hold on. Her breath came in ragged pants, the pleasure so intense it felt like torment. She wanted ... needed him now ... inside her ... the emptiness aching ... aching so badly ... yearning to be filled.
"Mmm, God, Kat, you taste good!" As if he knew what she needed, he pushed first one, then two fingers inside her, stroking her deeply--and the tension inside her exploded.
She cried out, her body shattering in a white-hot surge of bliss, pleasure pounding through her in an iridescent rush. He rode through it with her, keeping up the rhythm with his mouth and fingers, drawing out her climax, making it last.
"God, Kat, I want you!" And then he was above her, inside her, the deep, rhythmic slide of his cock driving her from one orgasm to another, his kiss carrying her own erotic taste into her mouth. She wrapped her legs around him, offering him all of herself, as he fell over the edge and, with a deep groan, lost himself inside her.
KAT LAY IN Gabe's arms on the bed, her head on his chest, her body feeling languid, her fingers threading through the sweat-dampened hair on his chest. "I like your game better than checkers."
He chuckled, a deep sound that reverberated in his chest. "Here's the best thing about this game--it lasts as long as we last."
He reached for a folded piece of paper, picked it up off the floor, read it--and grinned. "So you want to tie me to the bed, huh? I'll get a rope."
She gaped at him, laughing. "It does not say that! It says--"
In a blink, she found herself flipped onto her belly, her arms stretched out above her head. Gabe spoke in her ear, his voice a deep rumble. "It says you want me to take you from behind. Do you want it like this? Or"--he drew her up onto all fours--"like this?"
"Yes! Oh, like this!"
He grasped her hips and drove into her--hard.
GODDAMN COLORADO WEATHER!
If it weren't for this fucking storm, he'd be done and on his way home. Instead, he'd had to bivouac and was now stuck in this damned tent, waiting for the storm to blow itself out. And he was so close!
According to the last GPS
reading he'd gotten before the goddamned batteries had died, the cabin was a couple miles south of him. He ought to have found it by now. He'd have kept going if darkness and whiteout hadn't made it impossible for him to see whether he was skiing in circles or about to go off a cliff. He wasn't going to risk getting seriously lost or breaking his neck. He was here to kill, not to die.
He drew his sleeping bag up tightly around his chin. If he was going to be stuck out here for God only knew how long, he might as well get some sleep. Then, when the storm broke, he'd ski in, nice and quiet, and get rid of them.
CHAPTER 28
THE STORM RAGED into the next morning, the sky so overcast that Kat and Gabe were forced to ration electricity. While Kat's laptop charged, Gabe checked in with Darcangelo, then heated water so he and Kat could take a bath together. That brought them as close as they could get at the moment to fulfilling her last fantasy--making love in the shower.
"I still say you cheated," she said, lying back against his chest in the cooling water, her eyes closed, her body limp, a look of female sexual satisfaction on her face.
Gabe kissed her hair, lazily fondling her right breast. "I never said you had to write something different on each slip of paper. I really wanted to go down on you, so I did what I could to improve my odds. You're not complaining, are you? From the way you screamed all three times, I'd say you enjoyed it as much as I did."
"No, I'm not complaining." She smiled, then laughed, her cheeks turning a charming shade of red. "But I'll remember that for next time."
Next time.
There would be a next time. There would be lots of next times.
And something in Gabe's heart constricted to think that this smart, beautiful, loving woman was his. Somehow, she'd gotten past the hurt inside him and had given him back himself. He'd never expected to feel this happy again, had never expected to dream about the future again, had never expected to love again. And now they had their entire lives stretched out before them. There'd be more nights of mind-blowing sex. There'd be a wedding. There would be children.
