Cold Target

by Potter, Patricia;

  She held out her hand. “Thanks for coming.”

  “I would have been here sooner but Sarah said you wanted to be alone. She’s been keeping me updated on your calls. Then I just found myself on the road.”

  “I’m glad,” she replied simply.

  Something intense flared inside. He intertwined his fingers with hers, feeling warmth creep through him, a kind of belonging he’d never known before.

  He let her lead the way, Beast on his heels. He then took the key from her—the old kind of key, not a card key—and turned it in the lock. They stepped inside and immediately Meredith moved into his arms.

  Moments later they were in bed and their lovemaking was frantic. Part of it, he told himself, was the survivor’s need to feel. To know she was still alive. He didn’t want to think about the other part.

  He told himself not to take advantage.

  But they were in the eye of a storm that wouldn’t let them go. His need was explosive, and so, he sensed, was hers.

  She had lost so much. Her family. Her sense of safety.

  He had killed. That moment affected him far more than he’d ever expected it would. There had also been a split second when he thought he would die, and that the woman he cared about might also die.

  He would never forget the surprise on Fuller’s face. He suspected it would haunt him for a long time.

  He needed her as much as she needed him, and that need fueled the attraction that had always linked them.

  He didn’t prolong the foreplay. She was ready and so was he. Need drove them. Need for human intimacy. Need for each other. Need to live. To feel. To love.

  His lips met hers as he lowered his body on hers. Hot desire raged through him as he entered her. Her arms wrapped around him, bringing him closer to her, and her body reacted to his every stroke. She caught his tempo and together they moved in a primitive dance that became a frantic, whirling race toward a peak he’d never reached before.

  He felt her body shudder in climax, and he caught himself just before he did the same and quickly withdrew, spilling his seed on the sheet.

  Then he lay back and held her, as her body trembled. “I’m sorry. I should have brought something. I was damned worried about you. Why in the hell didn’t you tell me?”

  “I’m not used to having people worry about me.”

  “I can remedy that.” He showered her face with kisses, then moved to her neck. “You taste good,” he murmured.

  “So do you.”

  “You feel great.”

  “Hmmmmmmm. Likewise.”

  He touched her hair. It was soft and silky and smelled like roses. “Don’t ever do that again,” he said.

  “What?”

  “Run off without telling me.”

  She looked at him with eyes glazed by passion and lips slightly swollen from his kisses. “I felt like I had to.… I was a danger to you. If it hadn’t been for me, you wouldn’t have had to shoot Fuller.”

  “He was a powder keg, Meredith, and nothing anyone did was going to defuse him.”

  She shivered in his embrace, and he ran his hands up and down her arms.

  “What about supper?”

  She sat up. “Excellent idea. I haven’t had anything since breakfast.”

  “Me, either. Any ideas?”

  “The clerk here told me about a barbecue place. She said you can’t eat anything while visiting Memphis until you eat barbecue.”

  “She’s right.”

  “You’ve been here before?”

  “I like the blues. They have some of the best in Memphis.”

  “You come up here for that?”

  That reminded him how little they knew about each other.

  He took a shower, and she joined him. She leaned against the wall as he soaped her, then she soaped him and they let the water rinse them off. They stayed there until the water cooled, then turned icy.

  They took turns toweling each other as steam lingered in the small room.

  He felt the stubble on his jaw. “I need to shave.”

  “No, you don’t. I like the outlaw look.”

  The steam in the small room cloaked them. He caressed her face. “And I like the way the shower made your cheeks glow.”

  They moved closer together.

  “Barbecue,” he reminded her, his lips all too close to hers.

  She nodded. “Yes,” she said. The heat between them remained. The desire. The need.

  Hell, the raw hunger. He willed himself to step back. They needed to talk. And she hadn’t eaten all day. Perhaps food would bring them back to their senses.

  “I’ll get dressed.”

  “That’s a hell of a good idea.” The air sizzled between them.

  Then she seemed to break loose of the spell that had held both of them prisoner. She left the room with a look every bit as frustrated as his must be.

  There was still tonight.

  He would stop at the drugstore on their way back.

  The thought enabled him to grab a towel, dry his hair with it and dress.

  In less time than he thought possible for a woman to get ready, they were in his car. He told Beast to stay, and the dog looked disappointed but sat back on his haunches.

  Ten minutes later, they were in a packed room that smelled like heaven.

  He ordered ribs. She ordered a barbecue pork plate. They traded food, their hands touching. So did their gazes. They feasted on each other as much as they feasted on the food.

  He kept telling himself it was the situation. They had nothing in common. Nothing at all. But the air between them remained dense, heated, explosive. He sat next to her in the booth, rather than across. He wanted to be near her, to touch her.

  “What do you plan to do now?” he asked.

  “Find the man in that photo.”

  “You don’t know he’s the father. And even if he is, he may not know what happened.”

  “No, but he knew my mother.” Her face was wistful. “Something happened between the time the photo was taken and the mother I knew. There was no laughter later.”

  He wanted to say he had a lead on the young man. But he didn’t.

  A vague familiarity he couldn’t mention yet. He’d tried to find the files of Dom’s conviction years ago. He wanted to see a photo. Oddly enough, the files were missing. He hadn’t had time to contact the prison for one.

  But wouldn’t Dom have shown a greater reaction to Marguerite Rawson’s death if they’d had a child together? Gage couldn’t help but believe he was reaching.

  Still, he planned to talk to Dom once he returned. But first he had to ensure Meredith’s safety. He intended to be with Meredith every moment. His suspension had been a godsend. Otherwise, he would have been tempted to tender his resignation. One, he thought, that would be accepted with pleasure.

  He didn’t mention any of that, though. Instead he ordered dessert.

  She looked at him with a small smile. “Why aren’t you twice as big as you are?”

  “My coach always wanted to know that, too. He wanted big.”

  “Coach?”

  “I played football in high school and college.”

  She looked puzzled, as if she were searching her mind for a previous mention of it. Hadn’t that been in his file? But then why should it be? Hell, he’d never finished.

  “What did you play?”

  “Quarterback. Injured my knee in my junior year. Shot my ambitions to hell.”

  “Ambitions?”

  “I was going to be the next Joe Namath,” he said wryly.

  “I was going to be the next Clarence Darrow,” she said with a wan smile.

  He liked the way she said that. For the first time in years, the sting of failure faded. “Reality has a way of diverting ambitions, doesn’t it?” he said. “Where did you go to school?”

  “George Washington. My father wanted a son to follow in his footsteps.”

  His hand reached out and closed over hers. “You’re a damned good lawyer.�
�

  “Even if I’m on ‘the dark side?’”

  “I’m sorry for that remark. I saw what you did for Nan. And I’ve heard about your work at the shelter. You just always …” He searched for the words.

  “Irritated you?”

  “I wish it were that simple. Irritated. Challenged. Bruised my ego. Even worse, attracted me.”

  She chuckled.

  He looked at her suspiciously.

  “Those are exactly the same words I would use as to my reaction to you.”

  “The same?”

  “Well, I might throw in that I thought you were arrogant and obnoxious.”

  “That’s cruel.”

  “I was wrong.”

  “No, you weren’t. A lot of people say that about me.”

  “They don’t know you.”

  “And you do.”

  “I’m getting there. Slowly.” Her smile was like a gift.

  His dessert came. A huge piece of Key lime pie.

  He took a forkful and offered it to her.

  She opened her mouth and ate it. “Hmmm, that’s good.”

  They shared the rest of it, their gazes seldom leaving the other.

  It was gone much too quickly. He ordered a barbeque sandwich for Beast, shrugging at her amusement. “I forgot his dog food.”

  “That should make him happy.”

  “That will make him ecstatic. You give it to him, and he’ll be your friend for life.”

  They smiled stupidly at each other again. Gage wondered what in the hell was happening to him. He was acting like an adolescent in love for the first time.

  Just then the waitress brought the sandwich and bill. Meredith started to protest as he took it, and he silenced her with a look. “You can pay for breakfast.”

  “Promise?”

  “Promise.”

  It was an abrupt reminder that they were partners, two people working together to solve a mystery. Well, dammit, wasn’t that what he wanted?

  Meredith wondered how she had ever thought him cold and arrogant.

  He’d said very little about her parents. Sympathy probably would have induced a fountain of tears. Instead he had transported her for a few hours to a safe place. A warm and comforting place.

  He stopped briefly at a drugstore. She bought some shampoo while he made his purchases, then they returned to the motel. He drove around it several times, his eyes watchful.

  “You don’t think …?”

  “I don’t want to take chances.”

  Then he parked and they went inside. He unlocked the door and made it clear he wanted to enter first even though Beast would have probably scared the stuffing out of anyone who dared go inside.

  Beast was ecstatic at their return and even more so about the barbecue sandwich. Surprisingly, instead of gulping it in two or three bites, he was very much the gentleman, taking it piece by piece and savoring it, then licking his chops in appreciation.

  Then he returned to his place at the full-length window.

  Gage took her hand and she looked up at him. Magic enveloped them. He brushed her cheek with his hand, then gently traced patterns along the back of her neck, the very lightness of the touch making it incredibly erotic. Her every nerve ending tingled with expectancy, and she was filled with an aching hunger as his lips moved from her mouth to the hollow of her throat with scorching thoroughness.

  “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, and she felt beautiful.

  Her fingers went to the back of his neck, catching locks of his hair, and she felt him tense, just as she had. The air in the room was charged now, dense with voltaic energy.

  This time he was taking time to seduce her. His mouth returned to hers, played against it, loving, teasing. Every part of her body ached and quivered and strained toward him as she met him kiss for kiss.

  When his lips parted from hers, he touched her face as if reluctant to lose contact.

  She leaned against him, needing the warmth to fill the cold emptiness and fear of the last few days, the loneliness and grief. He was a loner. She knew that. There were no promises. But she would grab these moments and know that for tonight she was wanted.

  His eyes searched hers. Then he kissed her again, but this time there was no gentleness, as if he were trying to banish something. Or prove something.

  There was desperation, urgency, demand … a primitive need so strong it set ablaze every feeling part of her. She’d never thought herself a sensual person but now she knew how wrong she’d been. Her heart, her body, her senses were swamped by the pure animal vitality of him, the magnetism of his eyes, the magic of his touch.

  She didn’t care if there was a tomorrow for them. She needed him tonight. She needed to fill all the empty places in her heart.

  There was tonight, and it was a gift she’d never expected.

  She led him to the bed. She undressed him while he undressed her, both taking their time, fingers lingering and lips meeting. Then he lowered her to the bed.

  He opened the packet he’d purchased, then moved next to her, stroking her skin, then leaning down to kiss her breasts. Jolts of electricity ran through her.

  This time he entered her with tantalizing deliberation. Every sane thought dissolved as he proceeded with maddening slowness, each movement arousing sensations that made her clasp him with her legs, pulling him deeper and deeper inside. Heat flooded her as they moved together. Pleasure rolled through her like rumbles of thunder, each wave more powerful than the one before as momentum mounted, and she was lost in one great storm of flashing lightning and bursts of splendor.

  twenty-four

  BISBEE

  Holly sat on the porch with Doug Menelo. The sky was a very dark blue and it appeared that a million stars were blinking down at them.

  She’d never seen so many stars in New Orleans. City lights and smog diffused them.

  But here there was no smog and few lights. The stars reigned in all their glory. A few lacy clouds paid court.

  Fanciful thoughts. But she was full of fancy these days. Hope had replaced fear.

  Harry was inside, sleeping. Doug had stopped over to fix a leak in the kitchen water pipes. She was beginning to rely more and more on him, even as a voice inside told her how dangerous it was.

  The night they went to the movie, they’d returned to a rain shower and a leak in the roof. He’d fixed it the next day, along with some sagging steps.

  It had been a natural progression of a relationship she’d not been able to end. She liked his company too much. She liked the way he made her feel, as if she were someone of importance. He was funny and kind and decent to the core. He was also straightforward.

  She longed to discard the glasses she didn’t need, to add a touch more of makeup, to forget the dye that made her hair so unmemorable. She wanted to look nice for him, not because she wanted to impress his friends, but because he made her feel more than she was.

  She couldn’t do that. Still, he liked the plain person she’d tried so hard to make herself into.

  “Thanks for fixing the leak,” she said.

  “Thanks for the beef stew. It was terrific.”

  Pleasure flooded her. She had never cooked much until she’d left New Orleans. There had always been someone else to do it. She found a new joy in finding recipes and experimenting.

  This recipe had been in a local fund-raising recipe book, and she’d added just a touch of red wine to it. It had been, she’d told herself, the least she could do when he was repairing things.

  They’d had the rest of the wine with the meal although she had only sipped at one glass. She couldn’t afford to get giddy.

  She knew she shouldn’t invite his attentions. She kept reminding herself that he was a lawman and she was an outlaw. But every time she vowed she wouldn’t see him again, something happened that drew them together. And she didn’t want to deprive Harry of his Saturday horseback rides.

  That was the excuse she kept giving herself.

  But she was get
ting in deeper and deeper. She had watched him as he’d fixed the leak. He stretched out on the floor, the taut muscled arms visible with his sleeves rolled up.

  She couldn’t imagine Randolph fixing anything. Except an election.

  And every time Doug looked at her with those dark eyes, her heart skipped in response.…

  “A quarter for your thoughts,” he said.

  “They’re probably not worth more than that penny.”

  “Let me be the judge of that.”

  “It’s just … everything is so lovely out here. Quiet. I’ve never seen so many stars before.”

  “You fit this land.”

  She glanced at him. “Why?”

  “It’s always taken courage to move and resettle, particularly alone. And a resilience.” He looked embarrassed as he faltered for a moment. “There’s a lot of strength in you.”

  Strength? She’d always been the weakest person she knew. She had allowed herself to be molded by her mother, then used by her father and her husband. She’d been reading a lot about abuse. She realized now that she had been emotionally abused for years. And she had allowed it to happen.

  “I wish you were right.”

  He was silent for a moment. “If you ever need to talk … I’m a good listener.”

  Her gaze met his. Her heart caught. He was saying something else altogether. He knew something was wrong. He was offering his help. How she wanted to grab it!

  “I’ll remember that,” she forced herself to reply lightly.

  He sighed and his hand reached over and clasped hers. “I’m good at fixing things.” It was obvious that he didn’t mean pipes or roofs.

  But he couldn’t “fix” her problem, not without getting involved. Her husband and father wouldn’t hesitate to destroy him. Or even kill him if he got in their way, as she had. And then what would happen to Jenny?

  A shiver ran through her. He pulled her to him and put his arm around her. Then he leaned over and his lips brushed against hers. She’d never had a kiss like it. Gentle. Tender. Persuasive.

  She couldn’t.

  She had killed a man, no matter the reason. She was married to a murderer. A very powerful one.