Hot Off the Press

by Nancy Warren

  She dropped her head into her hand. Why? Of all the stupid moves—and she had to admit she’d made her share—why oh, why, had she fallen in love with a man she couldn’t have? A man so frightened of commitment that he rented everything but his motorcycle. His getaway vehicle.

  Well, it was an odd epiphany in an odd spot, but the truth of it sang in her blood. She, Tess Elliot, loved Mike Grundel. Not the great-while-it-lasts love, but the forever kind.

  Mike leaned close until their heads were almost touching and whispered, “What are you doing tomorrow?”

  Tomorrow was Saturday. Her heart jumped as she imagined for one wild moment that he was about to ask her for a date. A real date. He returned her love. She imagined dinner, dancing, a quiet night at his place. Trying to keep her voice even, she whispered, “What do you have in mind?”

  “I think we should hike the area, take a look at Macarthur’s property and get some visuals to use in the article, see if there’s any evidence of what Cadman’s up to.”

  Disappointment smacked her in the heart. Of course he wasn’t going to ask her for a real date. She was an idiot to consider the possibility that one-night Mikey, the love-’em-and-leave-’em king, might want a real relationship with a woman such as herself.

  However, even as her romantic notions were once again crushed, her reporter instincts responded to the suggestion. She’d told Mike about the sneaky proxy-gathering Cadman and his crew were engaged in, and he agreed with her assessment that time was becoming a factor. They had to nail Cadman, and soon. Checking out the site was a great idea.

  It would be nice if Mike put as much effort into getting her into bed as he did chasing a story. In fact, it would be nice if he put any effort at all into it. She sniffed. “I’ll have to check my social calendar.”

  But he didn’t hear her. A particularly blood-curdling yell had him jerking forward in his seat, his full attention back to the screen. “Oh, man! His whole head got whacked off. It’s raining guts. You made me miss it.”

  How could she possibly be in love with this man?

  TESS PAUSED to catch her breath and scratch a mosquito bite on her calf, just above her hiking boot. “Is this legal?”

  Ahead of her, Mike turned. “Kind of late for that now, isn’t it? We’ve been on private land for an hour.”

  Since she’d confirmed that Cadman was building up a voting majority in B.I.B., they’d both felt an increased sense of urgency. Being here, where the eagles’ fate rested, only made her more determined to expose Cadman’s schemes.

  They had found a narrow path that led from a parking lot on B.I.B. land toward the river. Ahead of her she heard the quiet shush of the Pasqualie, but they hadn’t seen it yet. Giant cedars, Douglas firs and trees she couldn’t name blocked the view of the river, and most of the sun. The air was moist and smelled like nature, and the shed needles provided a soft carpet for their feet.

  Rat-tat-a-tat. The sound came from her left and she turned to see a woodpecker tapping its sharp bill against a smooth glossy brown patch of exposed wood. One of the B.I.B. people could likely have identified the bird more specifically; to her it was just a sharp-beaked, black-and-white bird with a red crest on its head that looked like a stylish hat. It stopped for a moment to regard her from one perfectly round gleaming black eye, then, obviously perceiving no threat, seemed to tip its cap to her and went back to drilling holes in the tree.

  She smiled and moved on. They’d seen one sun-bathing snake, countless chipmunks, deer droppings, a couple of hawks, but no eagles. Still, it was good to be outside, breathing the clean air, in the company of the man she loved. She had to admit, her gaze had been drawn to the equally fascinating view of Mike striding ahead of her in shorts.

  Oh, that man had a body on him. It was almost more tantalizing that he was clothed, knowing what he looked like naked. What he felt like wrapped around her. How his hair teased her as it fell across her face when he bent to kiss her…

  She shook her head and dug her red plastic water bottle out of her day pack. She had to stop this nonsense. The man was not interested in her the way she was in him. If she treated love like, say, the flu, maybe she’d recover quicker. What would it take? A few aspirin? Lots of fluid and bedrest?

  After another hour of hiking, the trees thinned and she heard the river rushing louder. Then they were there. On the bank of the Pasqualie. And as though they’d been waiting for their close-up, a pair of bald eagles glided by, all massive soaring wings and snowy-white heads. They circled, dipped, then one landed high in a tree beside the river, and the second, after making another lazy circle, perched at the very top of the same tree.

  “Look at them,” Tess cried. “Aren’t they gorgeous?”

  Mike set down his backpack, rooted in it. “Here.” He passed her a pair of binoculars and she shed her own pack, slipped the leather strap of the glasses around her neck and settled in to watch the eagles.

  The two in the tree sat, statue-still. Another pair glided across her circle of vision and she squeaked with delight and followed them with her glasses. “There’s a nest in that tree. Oh, Mike, there’s a young one, perched on the edge, flapping its wings.” She sighed with the beauty in front of her. “I’m going to write an article about B.I.B., something that will bring some positive attention to what they’re trying to accomplish.”

  “What, you’re a P.R. flack now? Your job is to report news, not become spokesperson for an environmental group.”

  “It’s a legitimate story with news value,” she argued, smiling as the gawky eaglet spread its wings and almost fell off its perch. “And I’m going to report it.”

  She lowered the glasses, ready to let Mike take his turn, only to find him gazing, not at the scenery, but at her. Something about his gaze flustered her. “What?”

  “You’re like a little kid with a treat.”

  She breathed deeply, spreading her arms wide. “I love it here.”

  “You ever do it outside?”

  She turned to him in surprise. Desire surged through her.

  “If you brought me here to seduce me, you should have warned me. I could have brought a blanket and some—”

  “You talk too much,” he said with a softness that was almost menacing, stepping right into her personal space.

  “You—What are you doing?” It was a pretty silly question, since his lips were busy cruising her neck.

  “Actions speak louder than words,” he murmured into her ear, while his hands grasped her hips and pulled her flush against him. “The way you were babbling, I’m guessing you’ve never had sex in the great outdoors.”

  “Sex? But—”

  “Sex. No buts.”

  “Sex. Oh, yes.” She moaned as he ground his pelvis against hers, letting her feel his desire, teasing hers into mounting higher.

  “I can’t keep my hands off you,” he murmured. And she’d never been more glad of anything, although they were here for a purpose.

  “What about the story? The eagles?”

  “This is a breeding ground. The atmosphere is getting to me.”

  “A breeding ground for eagles, not people.” But her argument didn’t sound very forceful even to her own ears.

  “Think of it as firsthand research.”

  She sighed and sank into him. “I think thorough research is important to the integrity of a story.”

  “Oh, I’ll be thorough, princess. I promise I’ll be very, very thorough.”

  12

  Blood, guts, action, amazing special effects and an eardrum-bashing soundtrack. What more could a guy ask for?

  HE BACKED HER AGAINST a tree and the rough, grooved bark scraped the back of her legs, scratchy, cool and damp. His body pressed her against the thick trunk while he lifted his head and studied her for a long moment. She didn’t know what he saw, any more than she could work out what was going on in his mind.

  Blue, blue eyes stared into hers, then caressed her face as though memorizing each feature. She thought he was go
ing to continue toying with her, teasing her, but suddenly it seemed he changed his mind and almost threw himself on her, crushing her against the tree, his mouth finding hers and kissing her, hard.

  The binoculars bashed her chest and she shoved them out of the way so their bodies could press together unhindered.

  She opened her mouth to him, greedy and wanting, and immediately his tongue thrust inside as forceful and impatient as she could wish. She clutched him to her, yanking the elastic band out of his hair so hard he winced, then running her fingers through the black strands.

  She sucked in a breath, cool and smelling of the forest—damp and rot, the sweet smell of new growth. High overhead an eagle called out harsh and imperious as an emperor, while much nearer, something scuttled in the undergrowth.

  Heat settled heavy and wonderful in her belly as Mike’s greedy hands shoved under her shirt and found her breasts, kneading and stroking them through the cotton sports bra.

  Her nipples tightened within his grasp and she sighed. Before she knew it, he’d yanked both bra and shirt up. Need blasted through her. She wanted him so badly. A cool breeze shivered across her exposed flesh and her head fell back against the tree, her fingers grasping the bark behind her. Once more, the binoculars clonked her. This time on the naked left breast.

  She grunted at the impact, and Mike impatiently dragged the binoculars off her neck and knelt to place the field glasses on the ground beside them. He rose, glancing at her breasts, so exposed in the dappled sunlight. The glance turned into a stare and she had to resist the urge to cover herself.

  “I think you have the most beautiful breasts I’ve ever seen,” he said at last.

  The words sounded so sincere she did feel beautiful. She leaned back, enjoying his admiration, her exposure, the day. She smiled wickedly, thrusting out her chest to him in eager invitation.

  “And you’ve seen a few.”

  A quick grin lit his face. “Princess, I’ve made breast inspection my life’s work. But these—” he cupped them gently “—these deserve special study.” Then Mike’s mouth was there, dropping quick kisses across the upper swell of each, making her shiver with the brief contact of lips to skin. He sucked a nipple into his mouth and the building heat tormented her as he worked his special brand of magic.

  Lovingly, she gazed down at his dark head against her pale flesh. A shaft of sunlight gleamed against the shiny black hair. His tanned cheek was already lightly stubbled, the ragged half-moon of his eyelashes contrasted against his skin, and she realized his eyes were closed. She smiled, touching his hair with her fingertips.

  She heard a zip and realized it was from her shorts, and that his hand was sliding into her underpants. She widened her stance, giving him room to reach that magic spot between her legs. Bingo. Oh, yes.

  Her breathing became part of the forest sounds—quick and shallow—and her body literally ached to feel him moving inside.

  With a whimper, she forced herself to grab his wrist and to halt his movement while she could still hang on to the odd rational thought. “Wait, did you bring something?”

  He glanced up from her breasts, eyes vague, then seemed to comprehend what she was asking. “Yes.”

  “Good.” She sighed and let her head drop back, relaxing her thighs once more to give him easier access. Oh, this was good. She felt as wild and as free as the eagles soaring in this natural paradise. As a breeding ground, she had to admit, it had the right atmosphere.

  Of course, there’d be no breeding between Mike and her since he’d had the foresight to bring protection. Relief turned to suspicion. Who brought condoms on a nature hike? “You did?”

  He smirked at her. “Check my pack if you don’t believe me.”

  Indignation snagged the silky wrapping of desire. She held his wrist and glared down at him, torn between insult and gratification that he’d obviously planned to seduce her in the great outdoors. “Did you plan this?”

  His laugh rumbled soft and low in his chest. “I never planned any of this. You just…happened.”

  “Then why do you have—”

  He rose and grinned wickedly at her. “I have them everywhere. I’m not a man to pass up an opportunity for lack of resources.”

  Good. He was prepared—a sensible man who always practiced safe sex. This was good.

  Wasn’t it?

  She could go anywhere with him and know he’d have prophylactics tucked here and there. He was resourceful. He’d have them in his bedside table, his gym bag, his wallet, of course and… “Do you have them in your desk at work?” she asked, fighting to keep her head above the ocean of desire that wanted to pull her blissfully under.

  “Mmm-hmm. And my laptop case. I keep some in the motorcycle.” He shrugged. “You never know when an…opportunity will arise.”

  “Is that what I am? An opportunity?” Her excitement evaporated, as ephemeral as dew in the morning sun.

  Mike was what her mother would call a cad. He’d brought condoms on a hike, not because he’d planned to seduce Tess Elliot in this marvelous setting beside the river, in view of the breeding eagles, but because he always had condoms. Because she was available. An opportunity. And Mike wasn’t a man who passed up opportunities.

  She wasn’t special. She could be anyone. Any woman, anywhere. He didn’t care.

  But she did.

  “So,” she said, determined to test his boundaries, “if the opportunity arose, would you have sex with a woman you didn’t even like?”

  He shot her a considering look and appeared to ponder her question. “If she was hot enough, sure.”

  “What if she didn’t speak English?”

  “Then I’d never hear the words ‘We have to talk.”’

  “What if she were…psychotic?”

  He must have caught on from her tone that his little woodsy seduction wasn’t going as planned. He straightened and pulled his hand out of her pants, then gazed up into the feathery cedar branches. “That’s always hard to know ahead of time.”

  The last of her desire ebbed, replaced by a wave of regret that made her want to cry. Why did she have to fall in love with a man who wasn’t worthy of her? A man whose most treasured possession was a motorcycle built for riding away?

  “I’d still want you, even if you were a psycho,” he whispered in her ear, then took the lobe between his teeth and bit down gently.

  Raising her hands to his chest, she shoved as hard as she could.

  “What?” He took a step back and stared at her, a crease between his brows.

  She said the first thing that came to mind. “Eagles mate for life, you know.”

  He was breathing heavily, his lips wet from her mouth. “Yeah, I know. And their big strong baby eaglets sometimes kill their weaker brothers and sisters. So what?”

  She shrugged irritably, doing up her zipper with a definitive hiss. “I don’t want to cheapen the eagles’ habitat with something so meaningless.”

  “What’s meaningless about great sex? It’s about the most meaningful damn thing I can think of.”

  “That just shows how pathetic you are.” She was suddenly furious, with herself for cheapening herself enough to sleep with a man like Mike, a man who didn’t care who or what she was as long as she was female and available. And she was furious with him for being unable to grow up and assume an adult’s feelings.

  “What’s going on?”

  “I’m like the eagles, Mike. I mate for life. I’m not just a handy female body…an…an opportunity.”

  He threw up his hands and spoke to the trees, looking like a preacher ministering to a flock of giants. “This!” he said. “This is why I tried to stay away from you. Everything’s serious. One kiss and it’s wedding bells and embroidered towels.”

  She punched his arm. “You’re scared of me and everything I represent. Your perfect woman would be some psychotic foreigner you didn’t even like. But me, I terrify you. I’m a grown-up with an adult’s feelings and plans. I’m the kind of woman who cou
ld tie you down, and that terrifies you.”

  Her voice rose and she felt herself losing control, something she never did.

  “I’m not scared of you.” His words were low and angry.

  “You’re scared shitless,” she yelled at the top of her lungs.

  A startled chipmunk broke into frantic chattering in a nearby tree while Mike stared at her as though she’d just stabbed him.

  She gulped in air, feeling tears threaten. Shocked by her own outburst, she couldn’t believe what this man did to her. “And now you’ve made me swear. I never swear.” She didn’t yell, either, but it felt amazingly good to let the jerk have it.

  She stomped back to the flat rock where she’d left her day pack, shrugged into it and, ignoring him, set off down the path. She walked briskly, verging on a trot, but no voice called her to wait up. No lumbering steps followed hers. Mike had let her go.

  Of course.

  She was alone.

  Fine.

  She’d been such a fool to fall in love with Mike Grundel. She kept her head down, following the narrow trail mindlessly, barely raising her head to the scenery that had kept her enthralled on the way up.

  She’d fallen in love with a man too wounded and shiftless to grow up. A man incapable of love.

  She tripped on a root and fell, skinning a knee, which did not improve her mood.

  As she stumbled to her feet she recalled how Mike had acted in the boxing club with the crotchety old man and Jonathon Kushner, his friend since childhood. She supposed he was capable of commitment of a sort. Just not to her.

  After a while she’d walked off most of her anger and was left with a residue of sadness. Sadness for Mike for giving up on something special. He talked a big line, but she had a strong feeling he’d fallen for her just as she had for him.

  Sadness for herself haunted her, as well. Her bad boy with a brain had turned out to be so much more than she’d realized. He was cocky, yes, but under it was a courage she admired. He loved the worst movies ever made, but he also loved the good ones, which made his horrendous lapses in taste an eccentricity that was endearing—as long as she didn’t have to spend the rest of her life sitting through movies where humans were pulverized by blade-fisted robots.