Burning Love

by Debra Cowan

  A choked sob escaped Terra and Jack's heart ached. "I really admire how you've investigated this case. I know it's difficult to draw a line when the victim is someone close to you."

  She relaxed a fraction, the entire length of her body seeking contact with his. Her breasts, her hips, her thighs.

  His hold tightened. He'd been in this kind of anguish before and there were no words that could ease the pain. He cradled her close, his lips against her hair. Breathing in the sweet fragrance of her shampoo, the scent of woman made his pulse throb, but he refused to give attention to the way his body hardened. She needed someone, the way he'd needed someone after Lori's death. His parents and sister had been there for him. Who did Terra have? Right now, only him.

  Her sobs quieted. He continued to hold her, relieved when she exhaled a deep breath.

  "I can't believe he's gone," she said into his jacket. "Can't believe we're not further along in finding his killer."

  "It all takes time, and being patient is the hardest part. But we'll get this slimeball, Terra. We will."

  She lifted her head, lashes spiky with tears. "Promise?"

  "Yes." He stared deep into her eyes.

  She gave him a ghost of a smile. "I'm gonna hold you to that, Spencer."

  "Good." He rubbed her arms, forcing himself to step back slightly and put a little distance between their bodies. "Sometimes you have to vent that emotion churning inside you. You've been working solid on Harris's case, not allowing yourself to think about anything other than the job. I know, because I've been there."

  "I guess you have." Her eyes reflected the knowledge of his wife's death, a dark compassion he wanted to share. If she'd let him.

  Emotion shifted across her face. Even in the shadows of wavering sunlight, he could read a gratefulness. And the same hunger he'd seen a couple of nights ago in the police gym.

  Her gaze drifted to his lips, back to his eyes. "You called me sweetheart."

  "I did?" Had he? He must have. "Yeah."

  She leaned slightly forward, inviting yet tentative. Warm, moist breath washed against his lips and her breasts teased his chest. Desire ignited inside him in a quicksilver molten stream, but he moved slowly. Giving her time to realize what he meant to do, to step away if she didn't want this. Trying to give himself time to do the same thing.

  The only sensation he registered was the hard beating of his pulse in his head, his groin. He had to taste her. Wanted to put his taste on her. He gently caressed her now trembling lips with one finger, lightly dragged his hand down her silky throat. How long had he wanted to touch that creamy skin? He couldn't mistake the plea in her eyes, the invitation when her lashes fluttered half-shut. Beneath his touch, her pulse skittered.

  His skin burned. He rested his thumb in the hollow of her throat, his pulse racing as wildly as hers. He claimed her lips and took what he wanted, what he'd denied wanting. He sipped at her, touching her with his tongue only when she made a tiny sound in the back of her throat, when her shaking hands framed his face to hold him to her.

  Jack had the fleeting thought that his knees might give out. He backed her into the wall, savoring the rich, dark taste of her, the velvet heat of her tongue against his. Every wicked curve of her body fit him. He slid a hand down to her breast, hit with a savage need to take her. Here. Now.

  She moaned, pressing into him. Her arms gripped him tighter, growing more frantic. He stilled her by gently cupping her nape, tilting her head back so he controlled the kiss. Agonizing in its deliberation, yet giving the sharpest, purest kind of pleasure. She clung to him, wild desperation in her touch.

  Only his wife had ever sparked this kind of fierce want fused with need. It had been so long since he'd felt anything for a woman. Was that all this was? A connection with someone for the first time since his wife's death? Terra ignited an all-consuming slow burn that somehow seared away the scars from Lori's death.

  Jack broke the kiss and lifted his head, breathing hard. His muscles strained at the command to stop.

  Terra's eyes opened, dazed and clouded with passion. The raw hunger in her face nearly had him pulling her to him again, taking harder this time, rougher.

  She sagged against the wall. "Wow."

  He briefly closed his eyes, swallowed a string of curses as he clenched his fists to keep them at his sides. He couldn't get involved with this woman. With Terra's job, risk was a fact of life. Daily. Just like being a cop. He'd lost his wife to violence. No way could he put his heart on the line again for a woman who walked a high-wire for a living. He and Terra were partners on this case, but nowhere else. He couldn't forget that again.

  "Jack?" She sounded confused, her voice raspy with longing.

  Slowly, reason seeped back, past the lust roaring through him. He backed up a step, his voice ragged. "This is a mistake. It isn't smart. For either of us."

  She touched her lips, looked as if she might kiss him again. And he'd let her, dammit.

  "You're right," she said, her chest rising and falling as rapidly as his.

  He wanted to press her against that wall and take what she'd offered just seconds ago. So he turned to leave. "Talk to you tomorrow."

  "Did you have some news about the case?"

  It was then that he realized he hadn't given a single thought to the investigation from the minute he'd laid eyes on her in the bar. Even the shadows couldn't hide the dark circles under her eyes, the fatigue etching her face. "Nothing that can't wait until tomorrow. Get some rest."

  She nodded. "Thanks for coming, Jack. To the funeral."

  "You're welcome." He saw no regret, just the remnants of desire he'd felt minutes ago. And wanted to feel again. Damn.

  His body tightened as he forced himself away from the circle of her heat. That kiss was the best thing to hit him in years and it couldn't happen again. Not with her.

  He didn't go back inside, but walked around the building and across the lot to his car.

  Why did the woman who finally tripped his trigger have to be a fire chaser? Fire was as dangerous a weapon as Jack had ever seen or used. There was more potential for jeopardy in her job than had ever been in Lori's and his wife had been gunned down.

  The feel of Terra's lips still burned his. What the hell had he done?

  What he'd wanted to do for quite some time now, he admitted. And he didn't regret it. But he couldn't let it go any further, either.

  Chapter 7

  A mistake.

  Jack had called that consensual, bone-melting liplock a mistake.

  The words every woman longed to hear, Terra thought wryly the next morning. Even after a good night's sleep, the memory of Jack's seductive taste, the want that had streamed through her like hot silk had her clenching her hands on the steering wheel as she headed to the police station to view the now enhanced videotape. She'd kissed him back as if she were trying to give him some competition for the world kissing title.

  A mistake.

  Hmmph. Could she pick 'em or what? First Keith, now Jack. She could tell when a man wanted to kiss her and Jack Spencer had wanted to. But then he'd pulled away.

  Through the haze of building desire, Terra had registered the look of shock, then agony that had sharpened his features. Something had definitely gone through his mind, but what?

  Had she misread him? It was possible. She'd been running on pure emotion. Drowning in it. Harris's funeral had brought to the surface all the grief and anger Terra had managed to work around during the past week. The service was the first time she'd let herself feel anything since finding him.

  The final goodbye to her friend, her dealings with Cecily and LeBass's accusations had blurred the line she'd drawn between personal and professional. The kiss with Jack Spencer had erased the line. Still, her pride wouldn't have been so wounded if she hadn't almost puddled at his feet. The man had nearly melted her socks off.

  She'd wanted to sink into his kisses and forget about the investigation for a while, but thank goodness she hadn't. Jack had mad
e it plain he regretted what had happened between them. Dismissing a sharp stab of disappointment, Terra determined she'd be all business from now on. She could forget that kiss. In about twenty years.

  Pulling up to the police station, she nosed her SUV into a spot in front of the door. She needed to focus on catching the serial arsonist. Jack Spencer was going to help her do that and that was all he was going to do with her.

  At least she'd gotten some sleep. Though still fatigued, as she would be until they caught this torch, she had enough clarity to realize she'd needed comfort last night and Jack Spencer had given it to her. She wouldn't make more of it than that.

  As she walked into the police department, she felt a little awkward about her upcoming meeting with Jack, but he'd never know it. Hell would freeze over before she'd bring up the mistake that had rocked her to her toes.

  Since it was a Sunday, only a skeletal crew manned the station. She thanked the officer who'd led her through the vinyl-floored squad room and around several desks assigned to homicide detectives. The instant she set eyes on Jack in the small windowless room where they would view the tape, her stomach gave its usual funny flip.

  He stood in the center of what looked like a break room. A metal table along the wall to her left held a coffeemaker, foam cups and a television set. An old refrigerator squatted in the corner.

  At Terra's approach, he looked up from a file. "Hey." His cool blue gaze flicked over her, setting off a shimmer in her nerves. "How are you today?"

  "Fine." She couldn't help giving him the once-over. Before, she'd always seen him in slacks and a suit coat. Today worn, faded jeans gloved the muscular thighs she'd glimpsed at the gym and he wore weathered black cowboy boots. His broad chest was covered by a long-sleeved denim shirt. Her gaze drifted to his hands. She recalled their gentle touch on her face and the way he'd leisurely ravaged her mouth, as if she were the only one who could quench his thirst. Her heartbeat tripped. "How…are you?"

  "Good. Thanks." He gestured to the opposite corner. "This is Denny Larkin. He's one of our lab techs."

  The lanky man had to be at least six foot seven and Terra hadn't noticed him, which sent a jolt of irritation through her. She walked over and extended her hand. "Hi. Terra August."

  "Hello." His soft-spoken tone matched his sandy, ragged hair and dark puppy dog eyes.

  "Thanks for helping us out with the video."

  "Happy to. Hopefully, you'll get something you can use." A slight flush colored his neck. "It's ready when you are."

  Jack looked at Terra. "I asked Denny to stay in case you had questions or wanted something further done."

  Maybe he had also asked the lab tech to sit in so he wouldn't have to be alone with the woman who'd practically climbed him like a tree last night. Which was fine with Terra.

  "Great," she said cheerily, determined to forget last night had ever happened.

  Jack's gaze searched hers for a moment before he walked over to what she now saw was a combination TV/VCR.

  Sliding her purse strap off her shoulder, she moved around the small table where Jack stood. She placed her bag on the table and glanced at the medium-size television set in front of her. Sinking down into a folding chair behind the table, she tensed when Jack pushed the door shut.

  "Denny said there would be less glare if we closed the door."

  She nodded, chiding herself for being so jumpy. She dreaded seeing the torched remains of Harris's house, that was all. Even though she hoped they found something useful on the videotape, she was ready to be finished with it.

  Closeted as they were, the room seemed to shrink even more. Or maybe it was just that Jack looked huge in the small space, his shoulders as wide as the door frame. Considering that she'd literally cried on those shoulders last night, Terra knew firsthand how broad they were, how naturally her head rested on his chest. She slashed the thought from her mind, forcing her attention to the videotape as Jack plugged it into the VCR. "Have you looked at the tape yet?"

  "No, I wanted to wait for you."

  "Thanks." She wouldn't have viewed it without him either.

  He watched her carefully, his gaze softly probing. "You ready?"

  Needing to be as objective as possible, she tried to filter out her swirling emotions until her primary thought was the video. At least they would view only the outdoor shots. Still, she struggled to keep the interior images out of her mind. Since learning of the large dosage of drugs in Harris's system, Terra felt a new horror at the thought of the murderer's premeditation. The Halcion had been an obvious attempt to disable him so he couldn't escape the fire at all. The viciousness of the act turned her stomach.

  Biting her lip, she nodded. "Ready."

  Jack picked up the remote and leaned against the table, his long legs stretched out in front of him. He sat only inches from her, close enough that she could feel his warmth, smell the woodsy scent that lingered in her memory from last night. She laced her fingers together on the table and forced back the anxiety crawling up her throat.

  He punched a button and the screen flickered to life. The video started at a point nearly a minute before the shadowy figure became visible.

  In the background, Terra heard the muted voices of firefighters and police officers issuing orders, offering aid. Her gaze stayed glued to the scorched scene as the camera panned across the front of the yard. In the strobe of police lights, water glistened on leaves; tree trunks shone darkly wet. Charred scraps of wood, twisted metal and pieces of glass littered the grass.

  The west side of Harris's house came into view and Terra swallowed past a catch in her throat, squeezing her hands tight. The edge of the front porch. A yawning hole that had once been a window. The brick corner of the house. Then…there she was. A woman.

  Terra leaned forward, straining to make out the mystery woman's features in the shadows. The face was grainy, too blurry to identify. Terra searched for any recognizable feature, hair color or style, anything. But the harder she looked, the more scratchy the picture seemed to become. She blinked to refocus her gaze.

  "What's that?" Jack pointed, pausing the tape. "A ring?"

  "I can enlarge it if you need me to," Denny said, startling Terra, who'd forgotten all about him.

  She shifted her gaze downward, following the direction of Jack's finger. The woman in the video wore dark clothes and except for her pale face, neck and hands, she melted into the tree she huddled against. Her arms were crossed in front of her, as though holding herself. Her right hand, resting in the crook of her left arm, was almost completely visible. Terra's gaze snagged on the ring Jack had seen.

  "Yes—" Adrenaline pumped through her and she surged out of her seat.

  "What is it?" He straightened with a frown.

  Terra leaned forward. "Ring on the third finger."

  "Right."

  "It's…it looks like…." She stepped back and studied hard, making certain her eyes weren't playing tricks on her.

  "What?" Impatience scored Jack's voice. He squinted at the screen. "What, dammit?"

  She was sure. Her gaze met Jack's. "That ring is shaped like a butterfly. A diamond butterfly."

  "That's what I thought, too," Denny said.

  "And?" Jack prodded.

  "Cecily Vaughn has a ring just like that."

  Jack stared at her for a long minute, then glanced back at the television. "Are you sure?"

  "Yes. She had it on the other day when we were there."

  Jack frowned. "I remember a big ring, not a butterfly ring."

  "Trust me." Terra looked again at the picture. "I'm sure. If it's not her ring, then someone has one just like it."

  "If it is her ring, it means she was at Harris's house the night of the fire," Jack pointed out.

  "And not home alone." Terra tried not to sound too excited, but they'd finally gotten a lead. "Her alibi is busted."

  "With the victim's protective order in place, she would've been in violation if she'd been caught anywhere near his house."r />
  "And if she were angry enough about that V.P.O. to go to his house…"

  "And set fire to it—"

  Jack's words made nausea boil up in Terra's throat, but she nodded. "We've got motive and opportunity."

  "It's time to pay Ms. Vaughn another visit. You up for it?"

  "You bet." She glanced over her shoulder at Denny. "Can we get a print of that shot?"

  "Sure. Just give me a minute."

  The lab tech retrieved the tape from the VCR and stepped out of the room. Terra paced the few steps to the refrigerator and back. She knew that had to be Cecily's ring.

  Terra was taking the interview this time, even though the anger boiling through her made her want to wrap her hands around Cecily's neck and shake the truth out of her. It was probably a good thing Jack was going with her. "Grieving widow, my Aunt Fanny," Terra muttered.

  "It'll take Denny a few minutes," Jack said. "Can I get you anything? Coffee or water? Although I don't recommend the coffee."

  She smiled, telling herself they weren't really alone. The intimacy of the space was deceptive. The lab tech was only a few feet away. So was the sergeant who'd shown her back to the break room. "I'm fine. Thanks."

  His gaze searched her face.

  If he was looking for signs of her breathless response to his kiss, he'd be out of luck. "What is it?"

  "Did you get any sleep?"

  "Do I look that bad?"

  "You looked pretty beat last night."

  Last night. Her pulse skipped. Was he asking if she'd stayed awake because of that kiss? Had he? "I slept fine."

  "You sure?"

  She nodded, wondering at his concern. "Did you?"

  "Me? Sure." He raked a hand through his dark hair. "You had a pretty tough day yesterday. Cecily's little outburst, then the firefighter at Hotshots."

  "LeBass is a jerk. I've learned to live with it."

  "What's the story there?"

  "He applied for the fire investigator position when I did."

  "He's obviously resentful about not getting the job. I hope you didn't let him upset you. He seems like a hothead. Or is he like that only when he's drinking?"

  "He's like that when he's breathing. That's one reason he wasn't promoted."