It wasn’t bad enough that she’d behaved recklessly, and totally unprofessionally. For all she knew, Greywolf could turn out to be a suspect in the case ... if she had a case.
It didn’t bear thinking on.
He beat on the bathroom door and she nearly jumped out of her skin.
"Yes?"
"Are you all right?"
What kind of a question was that? Hell no, she wasn’t all right! "I’m fine! I just ... uh ... I was supposed to meet Dr. Bob at eight. I don’t want to be late."
"You’re sure?"
"Positive."
"Would you like some breakfast?"
Go away! For God’s sake, her mind screamed. "No thanks," she chimed merrily.
With relief, she heard his tread as he walked away.
She’d turned off the shower and stepped out when she realized she’d left her towel in the great room.
The door knob wiggled. "I’ve got you a towel."
How thoughtful of the predatory bastard! "Uh. Just leave it on the knob, please."
She listened, shivering as she stood dripping on the bathroom carpet. Finally, she heard him leave again. Tiptoeing to the door, she listened for a moment and finally snatched it open, grabbed the towel and closed it again.
She’d left her purse in the great room, too.
Fuck it! She was too damned jittery to apply makeup anyway. Her hands were shaking as if she had palsy. Her skin was still damp, but she struggled into her clothes anyway. Tossing the T-shirt aside, she finger combed a little order to her hair while she did some quick relaxation breaths.
Finally, knowing she was as composed as she was going to get, she opened the door and strode purposefully toward the great room. To her relief, she discovered Greywolf was no where in sight. Slipping her feet into her heels, she grabbed her purse and hit for the door. She was so busy trying to dig her keys out of her purse while she walked that he caught her completely by surprise. When his arm snaked out of no where, grasping her around the waist, he literally swept her off her feet. With a squeak of alarm, she fell against him, clutching at him in an effort to regain her balance.
He cupped her face, forcing her to look at him. "You’re not OK, are you?"
She tried to brush the silly question aside with a smile, but even she could tell it looked fake. "I have to go," she said in a brittle voice.
He frowned. "What’s wrong?"
She gaped at him disbelievingly. "Hey, it was ... uh ... nice, but I really have to go now."
Anger flickered in his eyes. Slowly, he released her. "So, was it all you thought it’d be?" he asked coolly.
"What?"
"Banging an injun."
She felt like slapping him. "I’m surprised you can walk with that chip you’re carrying around," she said tightly.
His gaze flickered over her face. "If it’s not that, then what the hell is it?"
Charlie felt her chin wobble alarmingly. She sucked in a calming breath. "Hey, I know it was just another scalp for your teepee, but I don’t do ... that! OK? I don’t know why ... but it’s OK, you know, because I’m a big girl. I take responsibility---But I’m just this close to hysteria," she added, holding up two fingers pinched together, "so just leave me the hell alone."
She stalked out then. To her relief, he didn’t follow her to her car or try to stop her, but as she turned the car around, she saw that he was lounging against the frame of the front door, watching her.
She’d regained enough self-control by the time she reached the clinic to refrain from going ballistic when Dr. Bob met her with the ‘oh I’m so sorry it slipped my mind and the body’s already been taken’ story she’d been expecting. She had her specimens, of course, but his smirk infuriated her all the same.
After staring at him for a full minute, she finally nodded, turned on her heel and left.
She didn’t so much as glance toward Greywolf’s ranch as she headed out of town although it took a supreme effort to refrain from cranking her neck to see if his truck was still parked out front.
By the time she reached the city, she’d managed to pretty well put everything from her mind beyond the case. Handing the samples over to the forensics lab, she shut herself in her office and concentrated on her case load. The lab tech had promised to have the results back on the tests by the end of the week. She’d felt like gnashing her teeth, but it wasn’t a high priority case. She was lucky they weren’t too busy. Otherwise it might have taken weeks to hear anything.
Two days later, as she was finishing up for the day, the phone rang. She picked the receiver up a little absently. "Agent Boyer."
"Hi."
It was Greywolf. She would’ve known that velvet drawl anywhere. Charlie dropped the phone from suddenly nerveless fingers. She had to scramble to catch the receiver before it slid off the desk and hit the floor. "Sorry," she said, chuckling a little nervously, when she finally managed to get it to her ear again. "I dropped the receiver. Can I help you?"
He was silent for a moment. "I wondered if you’d heard anything back about the specimens you collected."
"Greywolf?"
"Yeah," he said dryly.
"Actually, I haven’t, but you know I couldn’t discuss it with you even if I had."
He was silent for several moments. "I’m in town."
Charlie almost dropped the phone again. "Here?" she asked, trying to keep the alarm out of her voice.
"I thought you might like to have dinner."
To Charlie’s surprise, she realized she wanted to go almost as much as she wanted to avoid him. She was still pissed off about the way he’d taken advantage of her, even though she had to admit that the end result was completely her fault. She’d known he had to be a player even before she got the chance to see him in action with the ladies at the tavern. And she’d still agreed to go home with him. That had sent mixed messages, she knew—not no, but maybe—and then she hadn’t stopped when she’d had the chance.
She didn’t believe for a moment that he would have continued if she’d said no.
It didn’t matter that he’d teased her until she’d lost the will to say no. She’d still had the option of leaving.
"I’d like to start over."
She hadn’t realized she hadn’t responded. "I don’t think that’s a good idea."
"Why?"
"You know why."
"I don’t think I do. I’m a dumb injun. Why don’t you explain it?"
"Don’t think for one minute you’re going to lay a guilt trip on me, Greywolf."
He sighed gustily. "Why don’t I meet you at your office? You’ve got to eat, right?"
"Uh ... Actually, I’m not at my office. I ... uh ... I had my calls transferred to my cell. Tonight’s just not a good time for me. Why don’t you give me a call the next time you’re in town?"
He was silent for several moments. Finally, he said, "Sure. I’ll do that."
Relief flooded her as she hung up. She stared at the phone for several moments, fighting the depression that followed the relief. He was, without a doubt, the best looking man who’d ever shown interest in her, and the sexiest .. . but he was a player. As tempting as it was to allow herself to get swept up into a fantasy world, she knew she’d end up regretting it.
Shrugging it off finally, she straightened her desk and left her office. Her car was in the parking garage and she took the elevator down. She’d just shoved her key into her door lock when an arm snaked around her waist, making her knees go weak with pure terror.
Chapter Eight
"Hi, baby. Miss me?"
"Jesus Christ, Greywolf! You scared the shit out of me!" Charlie snapped angrily, turning to glare at him. "What are you doing here?"
His lips tightened. "I was about to ask you that."
Charlie gaped at him guilty, feeling her face turn bright red. She quickly realized, however, that lying probably wasn’t an option. "I ... uh …I just didn’t feel comfortable about seeing you again ... after …."
"Well no
w that we’ve gotten that out of the way….." Catching her upper arms, he pulled her against him, leaning down and capturing her mouth in a scalding kiss that made her toes curl. In an instant, all the fight drained out of her, the fright from a moment before transmuting into heated desire. She found herself leaning weakly against him, his hands moving over her restlessly.
He kissed her slowly, thoroughly, exploring every inch of her mouth with his tongue before finally setting her away from him. She stared up at him dizzily, trying to set her jumbled thoughts in order.
Taking her keys from her limp fingers, he placed one dinner plate sized hand in the middle of her back, walked her around the car, opened the door and helped her in, then moved around to the driver’s side. She stared at him with a mixture of irritation and surprise when he got in and started the car. "How did you get here?"
"I was at the pay phone across the street."
She looked away uncomfortably. "I mean here. How did you get past security?"
He slid a glanced at her. "Shadow walking."
Her head whipped around. She studied him for several minutes, trying to decide if he was joking. He didn’t look like he was. "You mean you kept to the shadows?"
A faint smile curved one corner of his mouth. "Something like that."
"It was a hell of a feat. They keep this place lit up."
"Thank you."
"That wasn’t a compliment."
"I know."
"You’re not going to tell me, are you?"
"I already did."
Charlie studied him skeptically. "Shadow walking?"
"Where would you like to eat?" he asked, changing the subject as they left the parking garage.
Charlie turned to study the traffic while they waited for the light to change. She’d never been really comfortable about dates. The whole, ‘who’ll pay, where will we go, how much can I spend’ thing felt awkward, particularly when you’d just met someone and knew next to nothing about them—their tastes, preferences, finances. There were clever ways a woman was supposed to figure it all out and avoid uncomfortable situations, but she hadn’t dated enough to develop a knack for it. She’d set her sights on a career with the agency and that didn’t leave a woman a lot of time for a social life.
Greywolf seemed pretty laid back, but he could also be prickly. If she picked a quiet, out of the way sort of place, he was liable to decide she didn’t want to be seen with him.
Or worse, that she’d picked an intimate spot so that they could be alone. "You pick."
He shrugged. "I’m not really very familiar with the city. Why don’t we just drive around till we see a place we like the looks of?"
She nodded, instead of pointing out that it might be better if she drove considering she was familiar with the city. She didn’t particularly care where they went, so long as she didn’t end up defending her choice.
To her surprise, he picked a small, but popular, Cajun restaurant. The moment they entered the restaurant and stopped to wait to be seated, it seemed every eye in the place fixed on Greywolf. She was used to being ignored. As short as she was, unless she wore something provocative, no body ever seemed to notice her. Somehow, however, she didn’t think it was Greywolf’s height that commanded attention. He was tall, probably around six two, but it wasn’t all that unusual to see men that tall—not unusual enough to attract so much attention.
She supposed it might’ve been his hair. Almost nobody wore their hair long anymore, especially not men. But she didn’t think it was that, either, or the beaded, obviously Indian, choker he wore around his neck for that matter.
As they were escorted to a table near the back, every female in the place either gaped at him openly, or cast quick, nervous glances at him—and that included grinning, toothless infants and grandmas. For that matter, every gay man in the place looked him over like he was strolling through the place buck naked.
He gave her the seat facing the restaurant, and sat down with his back to his audience. His expression when she looked at him was stern, almost angry, his color faintly heightened.
He’d noticed and he wasn’t happy about it.
"What’ll you folks have?"
Greywolf didn’t even look up at the man that was beaming at him. He looked at her. "Do you know what you want?"
"What ever you’re having’s fine."
He ordered two steak and seafood platters. She caught the waiter and ordered a smaller version for herself.
"So—how are things on the ... uh ... down your way?"
"Settling down some. Every man with a gun’s been out hunting puma."
Charlie’s eyes widened. "But—they’re protected."
"Not on the Res."
Charlie held her tongue while the waiter set their salads and drinks on the table. "I suppose I can’t blame them."
"But?"
"I don’t think it’s a puma. Even if it is, there’s no sense in slaughtering all of them."
He studied her a long moment. "You one of those bleeding heart animal rights nuts that figure people ought to come second?"
Her lips tightened at the challenge in his voice. "Not hardly. I just don’t think it ought to be up to people to decide what lives and what dies. I suppose, when it comes right down to it, I just hate waste and I don’t think we can really afford to be so wasteful anymore.
"If it was my child, I’d shoot the thing myself before I’d let something like that happen ... I don’t care if it is the cat’s territory. But killing the wrong animal isn’t going to make these attacks stop."
He shrugged. "As it happens, I agree with you. But they’re not listening to me. Not on this one. They’re scared and they’ve got every right to be. It’s not going to stop. Whatever it is, it’s doing it for sport."
He was silent for several moments. "The animal rights people’ve got wind of it. They’re demanding the government put a stop to the slaughter. The tribal council want the cats all rounded up and killed. The government wants them rounded up and moved to placate the animal rights people. Looks like we’ve got a real storm brewing."
Charlie frowned. "I hadn’t realized it was that bad."
"It’s that bad. The news hounds got wind of your trip down to the Rez and started nosing around, and naturally got everything stirred up."
"I didn’t have anything to do with that, if that’s what you’re thinking."
He shook his head. "It’s not. Generally, what happens on the Rez, stays on the Res. Some tourist probably heard about the girl and started talking. Maybe somebody just saw the GOV on your plate and started nosing around. Who knows?"
She was relieved he kept the conversation revolving around neutral subjects, or the situation on the reservation, instead of directing it to more personal conversation and found she actually enjoyed herself.
Afterwards, he kept her so involved in the case that they’d arrived at her place before it occurred to her that she should’ve been directing him back to his truck, not her apartment. She looked at him a little accusingly.
"Can I come up?"
She wasn’t falling for that one. "I’ve had a really rough day …."
"I need to call a cab to take me back to my truck," he said casually, before she’d managed to fully formulate her excuse.
"Oh. I should take you back."
He got out of the car and walked around, opening her door. Charlie was so surprised, she got out before she thought about it. "I don’t want to put you out. Anyway, it’s late. It’s not safe for you to be out by yourself so late."
He was right, of course. She fit the perfect victim profile, and training only lessened her danger a little. Besides, she couldn’t help but be charmed by his concern for her safety.
"Sure. I’ll make coffee if you like."
He dropped his arm around her waist. It remained on her, as if attached, throughout the walk up to her second floor apartment, riding her waist, her hip, cupping one elbow to help her up the stairs. Charlie was a nervous wreck by the time she manag
ed to fit her key into the lock and rush into the apartment ahead of him. "The phone’s over there," she said, pointing and then turning to drop her purse on the table near the door.
"Nice place."
She glanced around as if seeing it for the first time and smiled. "Thanks. It’s just one bedroom and bath—back there—a small kitchen over there—It’s small, but I don’t need much room."
He nodded, smiled faintly. "Because you’re a runt."
She gave him a look. "Because I’m not here much anyway," she corrected, irritated.
He held up his hands in feigned surrender. "I didn’t realize you were touchy about it."
"I’m not, but that was hardly flattering."
He caught her around the waist and dragged her up against him. Charlie placed her hands on his chest, pushing, without much effect. "I like my women tiny."
Charlie’s lips flattened. "I’m not one of your women."
"No, you’re not."
She was slightly mollified.
"But you are my woman," he said, walking her backwards until she bumped against the door.
Charlie opened her mouth to annihilate him. She was certain that was what she’d had in mind. Before she could get a word out, however, he’d planted his mouth firmly over hers and shoved his tongue into her mouth. A red haze descended on her instantly, and anger had nothing to do with it.
In the two days that had passed since she’d left his ranch, she’d almost managed to convince herself that it hadn’t felt nearly as good as she remembered. It was nothing but abstinence that had made her so susceptible, and the fact that he was obviously a very experienced, and very proficient, lover. Despite the kiss in the parking garage, she’d clung to the illusion that she had developed an immunity to him.
She was wrong. With his first touch, he enveloped her in a sensual haze. She dissolved into mindlessness the moment the scorching heat of his mouth covered her own. Without quite knowing how it happened, she discovered she was stretching up on her tiptoes, her arms locked around his neck, pressing herself as tightly against him as she could. Shoving her skirt up around her waist, he caught her ass in both hands, lifting her clear of the floor and parting her thighs. She wrapped her legs around his waist at the silent command, shuttering with delicious sensation as the hard bulge of his erection nestled in her cleft, rubbing against her clit in a way that made excitement pound through her.
The Shaman Page 5
