by Elle James
Now the sheets called to her and her braless breasts tingled against the fabric of her sundress. Wickedly sensual possibilities raced through her mind, and her breathing quickened. What would Craig do if she opened the door and invited him in for an encore?
But he hadn't come to make low. He'd come to take her back out on the swamp. No mention had been made of their passion-filled night. Elaine pressed a hand to her stomach.
Had what they'd shared meant nothing to him? She'd thought their passion magical. Didn't he? Had Craig been bored with her like Brian? As the ultimate failure hit her square between the eyes, tears welled. Good God, she was boring in bed! More than anything she wanted to run and hide. Just as she'd done to get away from Brian.
A single tear leaked out the corner of her eye and trailed down her cheek. When the lone droplet reached the edge of her chin and dripped on her hand, her foggy brain kicked into gear. What the hell am I doing? Was her spine made of swamp goo?
No.
Elaine scrubbed at the tear and straightened. She reminded herself why she'd come to this podunk town in the first place. Not to run away but to help solve the mystery of what was killing the swamp at Bayou Miste. Not, repeat, NOT to sleep with Craig. Her only logical course of action was to ignore the man completely.
With a decisive sweep of her arm, she stripped the sundress over her head and tossed it across the room. In a few efficient movements she'd slipped into jeans, a long-sleeved white blouse, socks and tennis shoes. Thus fully covered, she felt more equipped to face the incredibly hunky Cajun waiting to take her out for a little boat ride.
After a deep breath, she flung open the door, ready to march into battle.
Craig stood in the middle of the living room in his tight jeans, long-sleeved chambray shirt and a smile hot enough to initiate a core meltdown in her nuclear reactor.
The wind sucked out of her sails, Elaine almost ducked back into the bedroom. How could she avoid responding to him? No woman in her right mind could ignore such a perfect male specimen.
“Are you ready?” Elaine forced a flippant tone into her voice. “As far as I'm concerned, the sooner we get to the bed, the better.”
A chuckle from Craig made Elaine reevaluate what she'd just said. Damn, she'd said 'bed'! Slow-burning fire moved up her neck into her cheeks. “Boat! I meant boat.”
His nod and slightly curled lip didn't ease her embarrassment. Not only did he find her boring in bed, he thought she was funny to even suggest they jump back in the sack.
Mortified but determined, Elaine grabbed her bucket, nets and satchel and stomped to the door. When he didn't follow, she turned back with one eyebrow quirked up. “Well, are we going or not?”
His lips widened into a full-fledged laughing grin. “We go, chére.”
Elaine charged ahead two feet in front of Craig. As she passed Ms. Reneau's house, the old woman stuck her head out the door and shouted, “Watch out for that pervert, Elaine. He's up to no good. I can tell you that. I'm gonna have a good long talk with that uncle of yours, Craig.” She waved her fist at him and ducked back inside.
Elaine slowed and looked at Craig, then back at the empty porch. “What's that all about?”
He shrugged and spread his hands wide. “I have no idea. None whatsoever.”
A sideways glance at his slightly guilty expression confirmed he lied. Typical male.
Still angry and with no really good reason, Elaine clung to her ire, choosing to walk several feet in front of Craig all the way to the dock. Once her feet hit the boardwalk, she stopped and stepped aside to let Craig lead the way. Anger could be carried too far. No need in setting herself up for a fall into the water.
When they sat safely ensconced in the skiff, Elaine realized she wasn't as petrified of the boat or the water as the first day. Instead of sitting on the bench seat facing Craig as she usually did, she turned her back to hint and watched where they were going. As they slid through the murky swamps, the gentle breeze stirred by their progress caressed her face.
She closed her eyes and imagined Craig's fingers curling around her jawline and down her neck.
“Duck.”
Elaine opened her eyes in time to see the willow branch laden with Spanish moss. Dodging to the left, she avoided being slapped in the face. Not until they cleared the overhang and entered the polluted lagoon did she see a light gleaming from the bow of a much larger deck boat. Two men wrestled a barrel to the edge and shoved it over.
Elaine leaned back and placed her hand on his leg.
“Craig, there's someone out there,” she whispered.
As the barrel sank into the water, so did the realization of what she'd just witnessed. “Ohmigod!” She clapped a hand to her cheek. “These are the guys polluting the swamp.”
Just then, one of the men looked up and spotted their little boat. He turned to his partner and pointed in theft direction.
Craig swung the skiff in a tight circle.
“Where are you going? We have to stop them!”
“No, we have to get the hell out of here before they dump us in with that last barrel.”
Elaine glanced back at the deck boat. One man jumped into the driver's seat and revved the engine. The other slid in next to him. The boat swung around and aimed for the tiny skiff.
“Hurry, Craig,” Elaine shouted. “Oh no! They're coming straight for us!”
“Keep your head low. They might have guns.”
Her eyes widened as the boat gained on them. “Would they shoot at us?”
A popping sound penetrated the steady hum of the motor.
“Get down!” Craig yelled.
Elaine bent double, her heart in her throat. “What are we going to do?”
“Do you think you can flip the switch on the front light?”
“I can try” Elaine dropped to her hands and knees on the floor of the skiff and inched forward, swaying with every sweeping turn. Cool water soaked through her jeans, chilling her until her teeth clattered together. When she made it to the front of the boat, she ran trembling fingets up the metal pole until she encountered the switch.
Click. The light went out.
Craig flipped the switch on the back light, plunging them into darkness.
“We don't stand a chance of outrunning them,” he shouted over the whine of their overburdened motor and the quickly approaching deck boat. “We have to find a place to hide.”
Meager moonlight trickled through the dense canopy. Elaine strained to make out what was ahead, wondering how Craig could see enough to steer.
A branch loomed in front of her and she leaned sideways. “Duck!” she shouted.
Elaine hoped the little branch would be more of a hindrance to a much larger vessel. She glanced back to see if their pursuers would slow.
The deck boat, lights a-blazin', blasted through the leaves.
Craig steered the skiff into a smaller waterway. Elaine kept a close eye on what lay ahead to keep from getting knocked from the craft, while glancing back to gauge the distance between them and the gun-toting villains on the deck boat.
As the channels narrowed, the deck boat slowed. Several gunshots cracked the air. Something whizzed by Elaine's ear and hit the water a few feet away.
“Get on the bottom of the boat. Now!” Craig shouted.
With her heart pounding in her throat, Elaine dove for the floor, bumping her knee on the bucket. “But what about -”
Another shot rang out.
Craig's arm jerked off the tiller and the skiff wallowed to a stop.
Why was he slowing? A glance behind them sent her heart skittering down into her stomach. “They're getting closer!”
Craig grunted and shifted to the other side of the bench seat. With his other hand, he grasped the handle, gunned the motor, and whipped the skiff around a bend in the maze of islands. Trees blocked them from the deck boat's view, but Craig didn't let up speed until they could no longer hear or see the light from the other craft.
Uncomfor
table against the metal ribs and rivets, Elaine lifted her head and peered behind them. No deck boat, no villains shooting bullets their way. She swiveled to look ahead.
The skiff angled slowly for what looked like a willow tree. Before she could open her mouth to cry out, the bow parted the slender leaves and they entered a natural grotto. The leaves fell back in place behind them, blocking out the meager light from the moon.
Craig cut the engine and the skiff drifted to a stop.
Elaine sat up in the bottom of the boat, feeling around like a blind man for the bench seat. “Do you think we're safe?” she whispered.
No answer.
With her eyes opened wide to let in any light whatsoever, she spotted his outline hunched at the rear of the boat. “Craig?”
He shifted and muttered, “Damn.”
“What's wrong?”
“Nothing.” A grunt gave he to his words.
“Yeah, right.” Elaine hauled herself up to the bench next to him and felt her way up to his shoulders.
Elaine's right hand connected with something warm and sticky.
Craig flinched.
“You're wounded!” Her heart threatened to choke off her air supply. Geez, those goons may have killed him. A heavy weight settled in her chest and she scrambled to find the light.
Craig gritted his teeth to keep from groaning. His shoulder burned like the devil. “It's nothing. The bullet grazed me. I'll be fine.”
The back light flashed to life. The reflection off the water bounced against the canopy of leaves transforming the grotto into a greenish-yellow cocoon.
When Elaine turned, her face blanched and her eyes rounded. “Ohmigosh.”
“Really, it looks worse than it is. The bullet grazed the skin.” He flexed his arm, wincing again at the pain. “No damage to the muscles or bones.”
“Let me get a better look.” With shaking hands, she unbuttoned the chambray shirt and gently pushed it over his damaged shoulder. “You're right. It just grazed the skin; however, we need to stop the bleeding. Did you bring any towels?”
“Use the knife in the tackle box to rip off a piece of my shirt.”
Elaine dove for the box next to his feet and surfaced with the knife. Instead of cutting into his shirt, she pulled her shirttails from the waistband of her jeans and unbuttoned the front. Thinking she'd take a piece off the bottom, Craig was surprised when she slipped the whole shirt over her shoulders and held it in her lap. Dressed only in a lacy white bra and jeans, Elaine sliced through the fabric of her blouse.
Craig gulped and tried not to stare at her full, rounded breasts. Breasts he'd nibbled on the night before. “Careful with that thing. I use it for filleting fish. It's sharp.”
“Hush and let me take care of you.” Grabbing the sides of the sliced blouse, she ripped it in two. With a few quick movements, she slit and cut it again into a smaller piece.
Then she folded the corners of the smaller square and pressed it against the wound.
His wince drew an apologetic smile from her. “Can you hold this and apply pressure while I make a strap to hold the bandage in place?”
With his tongue too dry to articulate, Craig reached up with his good hand. She guided his fingers into place and then bent to the task of cutting the rest of the shirt.
Armed with a long strip of cotton material, Elaine wrapped the makeshift bandage over his shoulder and under his arm.
When she circled around the back of his shoulder, her breasts pressed firmly to his chest and her hair brushed against his cheek. Craig inhaled her fragrant floral scent. Blood pumped through his veins to the rhythm of voodoo drums.
Wow, I must not be that badly injured if I can't keep my mind - and hands! - off Elaine.
Once she'd knotted the strip over the wound, Elaine started to lean back.
But Craig caught her bare back with his good hand and pulled her against his chest. “Mon Dieu, you drive me wild, woman.”
She made a pitiful attempt at pushing against hint. “Craig, you're in no shape to do anything.”
“I'd happily bleed to death.” His mouth dosed over hers, his tongue pushing past her teeth to deepen the kiss.
The silky lace of her bra tugged at the hairs on his chest. Craig found the back clasp, and he worked the hooks free. With slow deliberate movements, he slid his fingers under the strap and slid it from one shoulder, then the other, freeing both her breasts.
With a groan, he tried to bend to take a rosy tip into his mouth, but pain shot through his shoulder. “Ow!”
Elaine backed away and stared into his face. “We can't do this.”
“The hell we can't.” He grabbed her wrist and pulled her over to sit in his lap, bringing her breasts within lip range. “Ummmm.” He kissed a peaked aureole. “Better.”
Her fingers laced through his hair and pressed him closer. “I didn't think you found me attractive,” she said between several breathy gasps.
Craig stopped short of sucking her breast fully into his mouth and lifted his head. “Come again?”
Cheeks aflame, she muttered, “Nothing,” and tugged his head downward.
“Not find you attractive?” He leaned away and stared down at her body. Her thigh pressed hard against his crotch, the warmth fueling deeper fires within. “Are you out of your mind? What's not to love?” Had he really spoken the “L” word? Did she notice? Craig stole a glance at her face.
Her brows furrowed. Not a good sign.
How could he gracefully take it back?
“If you don't find me incredibly hideous, why did you leave before morning?”
Oh geez, she'd blamed herself for his ducking out. He wanted to tell her he'd been with her all day, but he couldn't. Craig thought quickly. “What would Ms. Reneau say if she saw me sneaking out of your house early in the morning?”
“I don't care what Ms. Reneau says. I do, however, care what you think.” She looked away, biting her lip. “I think.”
His heart warmed. “Well, I care what Ms. Reneau thinks. She can be...” ..He paused for the right word. “Well... determined when she thinks you're doing wrong.”
Elaine smiled and traced a finger across his lower lip. “And you've had occasion where she thought you were in the wrong?”
“Once or twice.” With a swift move, Craig snagged her finger with his teeth and sucked it into his mouth.
“Can't be all bad. You survived. Therefore, I'll take my chances.” Elaine plucked her finger from his lips and leaned down to press a kiss to his temple. Then she guided his mouth back to her breast.
With a sigh of relief, he pulled her nipple between his teeth and flicked his tongue over the puckered lip. Oh, how good she tasted. Thank goodness she hadn't probed further into his “L” word slip. Unsure how he really felt, he didn't want to discuss it.
Craig transferred his attention to the other breast. He'd just kissed it when Elaine twitched.
Then she jerked her head and twitched again. “Um, Craig?”
“Yes, darlin',” he answered, his focus on the luscious mound in front of him.
“I think the mosquitoes found me.”
Later that night, Craig slipped into his jeans and bent to kiss Elaine. He paused when the meager glow of the half-moon shone through the cottage window.
The bluish light caressed her pale cheeks, highlighting errant curl that lay across her jaw and lips.
When Craig smoothed the strand behind her ear, Elaine turned her face into his hand and moaned softly, a fraction of the sound she'd emitted a few short hours before. She stretched her arm across the bed, the sheet shifting to reveal a full, creamy breast.
Craig's groin lightened and he reached for the zipper on his jeans. He wanted to rejoin her in the bed for one more moment in her arms and between her silky thighs.
The clock in the living room chimed the hour. Six o'clock. If he didn't hurry, the sun would rise and he'd be nothing more than a frog to this woman. Sweeping low, he pressed his lips to hers in a gentle kiss. With a f
inal glance, he slipped out the back door and stole silently through the predawn shadows.
The little room at the back of the bait shop felt smaller and more confined than he remembered, the single bed a far cry from the comfort of Elaine's. He'd never been concerned over his sleeping arrangements before.
Pink and orange fingers of light shot through the dense undergrowth of trees as the sun crested the horizon.
Craig's vision blurred and he dropped to the floor, his transformation begun.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
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The lingering scent of Craig's aftershave assailed Elaine's senses, lifting her from her dreams. Ummmm. She smiled and sat up, letting the sheet fall to her waist. The cool morning air soothed her skin, tender from hours of lovemaking.
Craig Thibodeaux was fast becoming a very addictive stimulant. Although she knew he'd be gone, she couldn't help scanning the room, just in case. Disappointment tainted the sunshine streaming into her window, but she hugged the night's passions close, recalling in vivid detail -
A knock sounded at the front door, jarring Elaine from her recollection. Who the heck would be at her door at... a glance at the clock revealed she'd slept past noon. Not in the mood for guests, she flopped back down and buried her face deep in the pillow, pushing the sides up to Cover her ears.
The knocking only grew louder.
So much for basking in the morning afterglow.
With an impatient jerk, Elaine tossed the sheets aside and swung her legs to the floor.
Persistent pounding reverberated through the house and her head. She had no choice but to slip into slacks and a T-shirt. By the fifth round of pounding, Elaine catapulted from mild annoyance to outright anger. She grasped the door handle and yanked it open. “Where's the fire... ?” The last word trailed off when her gaze collided with the Cajun siren standing with a hand on her hip.
The female was every woman's nightmare. Creamy mocha-colored skin radiated youth and vitality. Midnight-black hair fell in loose waves down to the middle of her back. A petite body sported perfectly proportioned breasts, a tiny waist and a smoothly rounded bottom.
