by Linda Turner
Hiding a smile at her irritated tone, Nick drove through the ranch entrance, and within minutes, he was pulling up before her house. She'd left a light burning both inside and out, and without a word, he took her keys from her and opened her front door for her. When she made a move to step inside, however, he stopped her with just a touch on her arm. He liked to think his self-control was rock solid, but the romance of the evening had worked its magic on him, too.
"I think it would be better if we said goodnight right here," he said huskily. "It's late, and we both have to work tomorrow."
"Oh … yes, of course!" Turning back to him, she smiled shyly and had no idea how much she looked like the girl he'd known at sixteen. "I had a wonderful time tonight. Thank you."
"So did I," he murmured, and reached for her. "Come here."
Her eyes wide, she stuttered, "B-but you agreed to n-no s-sex."
"True," he replied consideringly. "I just wanted a kiss, Mer, but if you want to take it further—"
"No. No!" Suddenly seeing the mischief dancing in his eyes, she wanted to shake him. "You rat! I thought you were serious!"
Chuckling, he snatched her into his arms and was still laughing when his mouth covered hers. Between one heartbeat and another, however, the kiss turned dark and sensuous. He knew he should have let her go then, but he just couldn't bring himself to do that. Not yet. Not after he'd spent the evening in a perpetual state of arousal, aching for her.
With a murmur of need, he drew her closer, then closer still. Dear God, how he wanted her! But the feel of her against him, warm and giving in his arms, her mouth hot and hungry under his, went straight to his head. One kiss led to another, then another. Caught up in the wonder of her, he never felt his good intentions slip. Then, without quite realizing how it happened, he was reaching for the zipper of her dress.
Suddenly realizing what he was doing, he froze, cursing himself. What the hell was he doing? He'd just promised her that he wasn't going to do anything but kiss her, and the next thing he knew, he was peeling her clothes off of her! And on her front porch, no less! Swearing, his body hard with need, he clenched his jaw on an oath and carefully pulled her zipper back up with fingers that weren't quite steady.
Looking up at him with eyes that were dark with desire, she swayed toward him. "Nick…"
He moved like lightning then because if he hadn't, he would have snatched her up and carried her inside, and she wasn't ready for that yet. Setting her away from him, he took a quick step back, then another. "I've got to go," he rasped. "Dammit, Merry, don't look at me like that! I've only got so much self-control. If you don't want to find out what my limits are, you'd better get your sweet little butt inside while you still can. I mean it. Go on!"
She didn't, to her credit, hesitate. Whirling, she rushed inside and slammed the door after her as if the devil himself was after her. Standing right where he was, Nick waited for her to throw the dead bolt, then sighed in relief when it clicked into place. That, he told himself grimly, had been too damn close.
* * *
Merry had to give Nick credit. Over the course of the next few days, he held firm to his promise to keep sex out of their relationship. They talked several times a day, and now that he had two new deputies to help with the workload, he had more time off so they could see each other, and not once during any of the conversation they had did Nick make a reference to the kisses they'd shared on her doorstep. He treated her just as he always had in the past, as a friend and nothing more, and she did the same. If his heart, like hers, stumbled into a frantic rhythm every time their eyes met, he didn't mention it and neither did she.
They were, however, both aware of the heated attraction between them. With each passing day, it became more difficult to stick to the terms of their agreement, and to her chagrin, Merry knew she had no one to blame but herself. She was the one who'd done this to herself. She'd laid down the ground rules, insisted that they just be friends, and now she didn't think that was what she wanted at all.
More confused than ever, she needed some time to think, to get her head on straight, but when Nick showed up at her clinic one afternoon and offered to help check the traps she'd set in the woods for foxes and coyotes that might be responsible for helping spread the rabies epidemic, she couldn't pass up the chance to be alone with him.
"I set some new traps at the Hoffsteader place and up in Wild Horse Canyon yesterday," she told him as they headed west in her truck. "Martha Hoffsteader called me the other day to tell me that a pack of coyotes that lives in Wild Horse Canyon has been running wild through her ranch every evening after sunset, tearing up everything in their path. Her sons killed a couple of the more aggressive ones, but she's still having a problem."
"Do you think they're rabid?"
She shrugged. "It's certainly possible, especially since there've been a number of cases reported south and east of there. But coyotes are unpredictable at the best of times. During a drought like the one we've been in for the last few years, when water and food supplies dry up, they can get desperate. They might just be hungry, but I'm not taking any chances."
Especially now that she had the epidemic pretty much under control. Until Martha Hoffsteader had called, there'd been no new reports of any possible rabies cases in nearly two weeks, and vaccination of the pet population in the county was virtually complete. Once she was able to clean up Wild Horse Canyon, she'd hopefully have the problem beaten.
They went to the Hoffsteader ranch first and checked the wire cages Merry had set up in strategic places. All of them were empty but two, and those held young coyotes that appeared to be fine except for the fact that they were frightened and didn't like being caged up. That didn't, however, mean that they hadn't already been infected with rabies. In the beginning stages of the disease, there were no outward signs that anything was wrong.
"I'll take them back to the clinic and watch them," she told Nick as he helped her hoist the caged animals into the back of her truck. "If they've got rabies, it'll show up soon enough. C'mon. Let's go check out the canyon and see what we find there."
Wild Horse Canyon was a deep, twisting canyon on the southern edge of the Rockies that was composed of a series of gorges that snaked off into dozens of different directions. Too rugged and remote for ranching, it wasn't, even under the best of conditions, the kind of place anyone should venture into alone. On a day when dark storm clouds were gathering angrily overhead, it looked downright dangerous.
Following Merry on foot into the canyon to the spot where she'd left one of the traps, Nick frowned as he noted just how secluded the area was. They'd had to leave the car a half a mile back, and civilization seemed a thousand miles away. "You came up here yesterday all by yourself?"
Finding the trap empty and the food she'd bated it with gone, she pulled a small slab of raw beef from the cooler she'd brought with her and tied it in place in the trap. "It's really not as deserted as it looks," she told Nick absently, her gaze focused on her work. "There's a line cabin over in those trees to the right that hunters use during hunting season, and you can run into hikers up here just about any time of the year. It's perfectly safe."
Nick knew she was right—the area was popular with outdoorsmen at certain times of the year—but he still didn't like the idea of her traipsing around the canyon alone. She might have experience hiking in the mountains—you couldn't grow up in that area of Colorado and not love hiking—but accidents could still happen. Especially when the terrain was steep and rugged and not fit for anything but goats. One slip and she could fall and seriously hurt herself, then be trapped there for hours, maybe days, before anyone found her.
Just thinking about it twisted his stomach in knots. "The next time you need to come out here, call me and I'll go with you," he growled. "I don't like the idea of you being out here all by yourself."
Touched, she grinned and pressed a hand to her heart. "My hero!" she sighed dreamily.
Amused in spite of himself, he reached over an
d tugged at her hair. It was the first time he'd touched her in days. "You're damn straight, woman. I don't go anywhere without my Superman suit. I've got it on under my clothes right now."
"Really?"
"Oh, yeah," he assured her when she arched a brow at him over dancing eyes. "You get in the least bit of trouble, and I'm ready to fly to your rescue."
"Be still my heart!"
Laughing, Nick would have liked nothing more than to pull her into his arms then and kiss the stuffing out of her, but he'd given her his word. Reluctantly, he dropped his hand from her hair before he forgot his good intentions and forced a smile that didn't come as easily as he would have liked. "So where's the next trap?"
"Another half mile down the trail," she said as she started to hoist the backpack containing her supplies. "I—"
Whatever she was going to say next was lost by the crack of thunder that suddenly broke over their heads. Startled, they both flinched and glanced up to discover that while they'd been talking, the clouds gathering overhead had darkened ominously. Black and swollen, they churned angrily, trapped within the peaks of the surrounding mountains.
Frowning, Nick said, "I think we're going to have to skip the other trap for now. I don't like the look of that sky."
Lightning came out of nowhere just then, streaking in a jagged line straight toward a tree fifty yards to the north of them. In the roar of thunder that followed, Nick had to yell just to be heard. "C'mon, we're getting the hell out of here!"
He took her backpack from her and turned to run back the way they had come, but they'd waited five minutes too long. The skies opened up before they could take two steps, and in a matter of moments they were soaked to the skin.
It wasn't, however, the rain that Nick was worried about. The red dirt of the trail underfoot was dangerous enough in dry weather. In wet, it turned slick as glass. Blinded by the heavy downpour, if they took one misstep, they could find themselves at the bottom of a ravine and never know what hit them.
"We'll never make it to the truck," he roared.
Then, just when he thought conditions couldn't get any worse, mother nature proved him wrong. It started to hail.
Crying out in alarm, Merry ducked as hail rained down upon them. "The cabin," she yelled, pulling him with her into the trees. "It's up here."
Slipping and sliding, they crashed through the underbrush, dodging vines and low-lying branches as they climbed up the steep mountainside, searching for the cabin among the thick trees. The storm had brought an early twilight, and in the near darkness, it was nearly impossible to see. Finally, just when they both thought they must have missed it, they came across it quite by accident, nearly hidden among the trees.
The door was unlocked, and with a sigh of relief, they stumbled inside just as the storm abruptly intensified. Lightning flashed sharply like bombs exploding in the darkness, while thunder boomed, shaking the cabin to its very foundation. Overhead, hail pounded against the tin roof, producing a deafening roar while the wind gusted to twenty-five miles an hour, tearing at trees and shutters and door latches, threatening to tear the screens themselves from the windows. To anyone who didn't know better, it sounded like a hurricane was roaring through the mountains, destroying everything in its sight.
Soaked to the skin, Merry stood shivering just inside the cabin's front door, peering into the darkness for some kind of light. Considering the cabin's remoteness, she wasn't surprised that it didn't have electricity or any other modern convenience, but there had to be a lantern or candle or oil lamp around there somewhere. It was an unwritten law among hunters and hikers that whenever they used a line cabin, they always replaced any supplies they used during their stay. The problem was finding a light source in the dark.
Obviously thinking the same thing, Nick moved cautiously in the thickening shadows to a cabinet near the fireplace. Feeling around blindly inside, searching the shelves, he grunted in approval when his fingers closed over a box of matches and a thick candle. "Here we go," he told Merry. And with a strike of a match, they had light.
In a single glance, he took in the contents of the one room cabin, noting the rough-hewn table in the middle of the room, the simple iron bed in the corner, the cabinet where he'd found the candle. There was a fireplace against one wall, a pile of firewood neatly stacked next to it, and a few kitchen tools and an iron skillet hanging on hooks nearby. That was it. No kitchen or bathroom, no stove or water, other than the stream outside that ran behind the cabin.
It wasn't the kind of place where Nick would have wanted to spend his vacation, but it was sturdy and dry and would do in a pinch. Especially when it was raining cats and dogs outside and the car was over a half mile away.
Satisfied, he turned back to Merry. "Not bad," he began as the thunder of the hail on the roof began to ease. Then he got a good look at her in the candlelight and his mouth went dry at the sight of her.
She was soaked to the skin and literally standing in a puddle of her own making. Her hair hung in limp curls to her shoulders, giving her the appearance of a drowned rat, but it wasn't her hair Nick was looking at. It was the thin pink shirt and equally thin white cotton pants that were plastered to every inch of her breasts and hips.
His heart slamming against his ribs, he watched goose bumps rise on her skin and realized she was cold. The sudden rain and high winds had dropped the temperature at least fifteen degrees in the last few moments, and they were both wearing wet clothes. Swearing at his thoughtlessness, he looked around for something to cover her with and could find nothing but a rough towel hanging on a peg.
Grabbing it, he strode over to her and gently wrapped it around her wet shoulders. "I'll light a fire," he said roughly, turning away. "Give me a second and I'll warm things up in here in no time."
He'd already done that just by folding the towel around her, but Merry couldn't find the words to tell him. Her pulse pounding, she watched him go down on one knee in front of the fireplace and wondered if he had any idea what he did to her every time they were alone together. And never had she been more aware of their solitude than she was now. The rest of the world could have blown away in the storm outside the cabin's front door, and she wouldn't have noticed anything but the ripple of muscles across Nick's strong back as he placed logs in the fireplace and lit the fire. The clean, woodsy scent of him tugged at her senses, tantalizing her, teasing her until all she could think of was him. The feel of him, the taste of him, the aching need she had for him.
Sitting back on his heels, he watched the fire as it caught and started to burn, and Merry couldn't help but watch him in return. In the glow of the fire, his angular jaw was carved in stone, his cheeks and blade of a nose sculpted by the firelight. He looked hard and primitive and incredibly appealing.
When he suddenly glanced up at her without warning, there was no time to school her expression, no time to look away. He saw the need in her eyes, the desire she couldn't hide, and his own eyes darkened in response. His gaze never leaving hers, he rose slowly to his feet.
Her heart started to pound when he reached for her. "I want you," he rasped as his hands closed over her shoulders. "I know we had an agreement, but you need to know that if I kiss you now, I don't think I'll be able to stop."
It was her call. If she insisted on sticking to the terms of their agreement, she knew he would respect that. He'd back off, keep his hands and kisses to himself, and not touch her again, regardless of how long the storm lasted. Her common sense told her that was the wise thing to do. She was still adjusting to the fact that she was attracted to him—it was way too soon for a physical relationship. Her heart knew that, accepted that, and didn't give a damn. She wanted him and nothing else mattered.
Anticipation setting her pulse thundering, she said huskily, "It's still cold in here. I think we should both get out of these wet clothes."
His gaze narrowed sharply. "There can't be any misunderstandings here, Merry. Tell me what you want."
That was easy. "You," she
answered simply, and slid her arms around his neck to pull his mouth down to hers.
He couldn't have resisted her then if the devil himself had been pounding on the door, demanding to get in. Not when he finally had her all to himself and she wanted him as much as he wanted her. With a low groan that seemed to come all the way from his soul, he pulled her close and kissed her the way he'd been dying to for years.
He'd lost count of the times he'd dreamed of this, ached for it, for her, and he wasn't going to rush it. Not this first time. Slowly, gently, he kissed her as if he had all the time in the world, then kissed her again, this time taking the kiss deeper, letting her feel what she did to him. Caught up in the taste of her, he didn't remember reaching for the buttons of her blouse, but suddenly he was peeling the wet garment from her shoulders. An instant later, her bra joined it on the floor.
Her skin was golden in the firelight, her breasts full and pert and beautiful. Cupping her in his hands, he groaned at the feel of her. "You're so pretty," he rasped, and leaned down to explore her with his mouth.
Moaning softly, Merry clung to him, her senses spinning. Nothing had ever felt like this before, and he'd hardly touched her. When he finally brought his mouth back to hers, she was breathless, needy, desperate to touch him, too. "My turn," she whispered huskily, and lifted her hands to the buttons of his shirt.
One by one, she unbuttoned them, slowly trailing her fingers down the middle of his chest, teasing him even as she teased herself. And with every brush of her fingers, with every button that slowly parted, the anticipation built. When the shirt finally hung open, giving her a glimpse of the hard wall of his chest, her breath caught in her throat as she slowly pushed it off his shoulders until he, too, was bare to the waist.
He'd looked much the same that morning in her kitchen after he'd mowed her lawn, but she hadn't gotten to touch him then. Giving into impulse, she lifted her hands to his shoulders and ran her fingers over him, tracing every hard muscle, loving the strength she found there. He was a man she could always depend on, she thought, leaning forward to kiss the spot where his heart beat beneath her hand. Why had it taken her so long to realize that? All these years, he'd been right there in front of her nose, and she'd never seen him.
