The Novels of Nora Roberts, Volume 3

by Nora Roberts

  “You keep getting this half-smile going on. What’s that about?”

  “Things. You want to sit down and eat, or are you just going to stand there and stuff it in your face?”

  “Stand here.” She took another huge bite. “Stuff.”

  “Okay. Should this breathe or something?”

  “Not when I’m washing down pizza with it. Gimme.”

  He poured her a glass and another for himself. Then he pulled out a slice and leaned back on the counter to eat it. “You know the day Peter was shot.”

  “Hard to forget. He used to follow me and Rose around like a puppy. He’s doing okay, right?”

  “He’s fine. But that day, when I saw the blood on the snow, when I got to him and had his blood on my hands, part of my mind wiped out. No, more rolled back. To Jack. I was back in that alley again. I could see it, hear it, smell it. And I wanted to sink away somehow. Just go away.”

  “That’s not the way I heard it.”

  “That’s what was going on, inside.” He’d get this out first, Nate thought. Make sure she saw him as he’d been, as he was, and as he hoped to be. “It seemed like a long time. A long time crouched there in the snow, with him bleeding on me. But it wasn’t. And I didn’t sink away.”

  “No, you didn’t. You drew his fire away from Peter.”

  “That’s not the point.”

  “Cutie.” She moved forward, gave him a light kiss, moved back again to lean on the counter. “You’re such a cop.”

  “I controlled the situation. Did the job and got everybody out of it alive. I could’ve killed him. Spinnaker.”

  He saw her take that in, just a slight angling of her head.

  “I could’ve done it, and for an instant I considered it. Nobody would’ve questioned it. He’d shot my deputy, shot at me. He was armed and dangerous. It wasn’t like in the alley with Jack. Then my partner was down—my partner was dying,” he corrected, “and I was down, and that son of a bitch kept coming.”

  He looked down at his wine while she listened, while she waited. He set it on the counter. “There was no choice, and here I had one. And I considered blowing him to hell. You should know that. You should know it was in me to do that.”

  “Do you expect me to care if you had? He tried to kill my friend, tried to kill you. I wouldn’t have cared, Nate. I guess you should know that’s in me.”

  “It would’ve been . . .”

  “Wrong,” she finished. “For you. For the man you are, for the kind of cop you are. So I’m glad you didn’t. Your right and wrong are more defined than mine. That’s just the way it is.”

  “It was a year ago that Jack died.”

  Sympathy swam into her eyes. “Oh boy, you just keep getting punched in the gut, don’t you?”

  “No. No, I called Beth on the day. Jack’s wife. I called her, and it was good. She was good. And talking to her, I realized I wasn’t going to sink again. I don’t know when I got out of the pit, exactly, and sometimes the ground’s still a little soft and unstable under my feet. But I’m not going back down.”

  “You never were.” She poured more wine in her glass. “I know people who have or who probably will. The kind who fly into the side of a mountain on a clear day or go off into the bush to die. I know them. They’re part of the outer world I run in away from here. Burned-out pilots or some Outsider who stumbles up here because he can’t take the world anymore. Women beat down from being abused or neglected for so long they’ll just lie down and let the next man kick them to death on the street.

  “You were sad, Nate, and a little lost, but you were never one of them. You’ve got too much core to be one of them.”

  He said nothing for a moment, then he reached out, touched the ends of her hair. “You burned away my shadows.”

  “Huh?”

  The half smile came back to his lips. “Marry me, Meg.”

  For a moment she stared at him, those crystal-blue eyes full power on his. Then she tossed the half-eaten slice of pizza into the box.

  “I knew it!” Throwing her hands up, she spun around on her heels and clomped around the kitchen with enough violence to have the dogs leaping up to sniff at her. “I just knew it. Give a guy some good sex, a couple of hot meals, soften up enough to say you love him and—boom!—next breath it’s marriage talk. Didn’t I tell you. Didn’t I tell you?” She whirled around to jab a finger at him. “Hearth and home, tattooed on your butt.”

  “Looks like you nailed me.”

  “Don’t you smirk at me.”

  “A minute ago it was a half-smile, and you thought it was kind of cute.”

  “I changed my mind. What do you want to get married for?”

  “I love you. You love me.”

  “So? So?” Her arms were still flapping around, and now the dogs figured it was a game and made playful little lunges at her. “Why do you want to screw that up?”

  “Just crazy, I guess. What are you, chicken?”

  She sucked air in her nose, and her eyes went to cold fire. “Don’t you play that crap on me.”

  “You got marriage fear?” He leaned back on the counter, picked up his glass again and sipped his wine. “The brave little bush pilot gets shaky in the knees when the M word comes up. Interesting.”

  “My knees are not shaking, you jerk.”

  “Marry me, Meg.” His half-smile went full blown. “See, you went pale.”

  “I did not. I did not.”

  “I love you.”

  “You bastard.”

  “I want to spend my life with you.”

  “Goddamn it.”

  “I want to have babies with you.”

  “Oh.” She gripped her hair and pulled as an indescribable sound ground out of her throat. “Cut it out.”

  “See?” He contemplated another slice of pizza. “Chicken.”

  Her right hand closed into a fist. “Don’t think I can’t take you down, Burke.”

  “You already did, first time I saw you.”

  “Oh, man.” The fist dropped to her side. “You think you’re cute, you think you’re smart, but what you are is stupid and simple. You’ve already been through this marriage thing, got the shit kicked out of you, and here you are asking for more.”

  “She wasn’t you. I wasn’t me.”

  “What the holy hell does that mean?”

  “First part’s easy. There’s nobody else like you. I’m not who I was when I was with her. Different people make, well, different people. I’m a better man with you, Meg. You make me want to be a better man.”

  “Oh God, don’t say things like that.” She could feel her eyes burn. The tears rising up from her heart were hot and strong. “You’re the man you always were. Maybe you were shaky for a while, but anybody is when they’ve been beaten up and tossed aside. I’m not better, Nate. I’m selfish and contrary and . . . I was going to say inconsiderate, but I don’t see why it’s inconsiderate to live your life the way you want. I’m mean when I want to be, I don’t care about rules unless they’re mine, and I’m here, I’m still here in this place, because I’m half crazy.”

  “I know. Don’t change.”

  “I knew there was going to be trouble with you, New Year’s Eve, when I went with that stupid impulse and brought you out to see the northern lights.”

  “You wore a red dress.”

  “You think I’m such a girl I’ll go all squishy because you remember what color dress I wore?”

  “You love me.”

  “Yeah.” She blew out a long breath, wiped her hands over her wet cheeks. “Yeah, I do. What a damn mess.”

  “Marry me, Meg.”

  “You’re just going to keep saying that, aren’t you?”

  “Until I get an answer.”

  “What if the answer’s no?”

  “Then I’ll wait, work on you a little at a time and ask you again. Giving up doesn’t work for me, so I’m done with it.”

  “You didn’t give up. You were just hibernating.”

/>   He smiled again. “Look at you, standing there. I could look at you forever.”

  “Jesus, Nate.” Her heart ached, literally ached so she had to rub the heel of her hand over it. And that ache, she realized, sweet at the center, smothered out the panic. “You kill me.”

  “Marry me, Meg.”

  “Oh well.” She sighed. Then she laughed because the sweetness spread through everything else. “What the hell. I’ll give it a shot.” She took a running leap that would’ve knocked him flat if he hadn’t had his back to the counter. Her legs wrapped around his waist, her mouth crushed down on his. “This goes south, it’s on your head.”

  “Goes without saying.”

  “I’ll be a terrible wife.” She rained kisses over his face, his throat. “I’ll irritate you and make you crazy half the time. I’ll fight dirty and I’ll stay pissed off when you win, which will be rarely.” She leaned back, framed his face with her hands. “But I won’t lie to you. I won’t cheat. And I’ll never let you down when it matters.”

  “It’ll work for us.” He rested his cheek on hers and just breathed her in. “We’ll make it work. I don’t have a ring.”

  “You’ll need to rectify that, ASAP. And spare no expense.”

  “Okay.”

  Laughing, she leaned back, way back so he had to shift his stance to keep a hold on her. “This is just crazy enough to be right.” She reared back up, locked her arms around his neck. “I think it’s time we went upstairs and had insane engagement sex.”

  “I was counting on that.” He hitched her up a bit and carried her out of the room. When she nipped her teeth into his throat, he took a shaky breath. “Does it have to be upstairs? How about on the stairs. Or just on the floor right here. Then later, we could . . . Damn it.”

  The dogs ran barking to the door, and an instant later, he saw the glare of headlights cross the window.

  “Lock all the doors,” Meg murmured dreamily, still working on his throat. “Turn out all the lights. We’ll hide. We’ll get naked and hide.”

  “Too late. But we’re going to remember where we were, and after we get rid of whoever that is—even if we have to kill them—we’ll pick it up again.”

  “Deal.” She hopped down. “Hold!” she ordered the dogs, who sat, quivering at the door. She opened it, recognized the man who got out of the car. “Friend,” she told the dogs, then lifted a hand in greeting. “Hey, Steven.”

  “Hey, Meg.” He bent to pet the dogs. “Hi, guys, hi. How’s it going? Ah, I saw Peter, and he said Chief Burke was out here. I wanted to see him a minute, if that’s okay.”

  “Sure. Come on in. Outside, boys, time for a run.”

  “Hi, Steven, how’re you doing?”

  “Chief.” He shook hands with Nate. “A lot better than the last time you saw me. I wanted to thank you again, in person and when I was a little more with it, for what you did for me. For us. You, too, Meg.”

  “Heard you kept all your digits.”

  “Ten fingers, ten toes. Well, nine and a half toes. Really lucky. All of us were. I’m sorry to bother you at home . . . I mean when you’re off duty.”

  “It’s no problem.”

  “Go ahead and sit down,” Meg invited. “You want some wine? A beer?”

  “He’s underage,” Nate said even as Steven started to accept. “And he’s driving.”

  “Cops,” Meg grumbled. “Always pooping on the party.”

  “Maybe a Coke or something if you’ve got it handy.”

  “Sure.”

  Steven sat, drummed his fingers on his knees. “I’m home for a couple of days. Spring break. I wanted to come sooner, but I’ve got a lot of stuff to catch up on. Missed a lot of classes when I was out, you know.”

  “You making them up?”

  “Yeah, putting in a lot of long nights, but I’m making up time. I wanted to come when I heard about Yukon.” His voice trembled, and the fingers on his knees dug in.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I remember when we got him. I was just a kid, and he was this goofy ball of fluff. It’s hard. Hardest on my mom. He was like her baby or something.”

  “I don’t know what I’d do if anyone hurt my dogs,” Meg said as she came back into the room. She handed Nate one of the glasses of wine she had in each hand, then took the can of Coke under her arm and gave it to Steven.

  “I know you’re doing all you can. Somebody told me you had some crazy guy around—Jesus, he shot Peter.” He shook his head as he opened the can. “And some think maybe this guy did that to Yukon. But . . .”

  “You don’t think so,” Nate prompted.

  “Yukon was friendly, but he wouldn’t have gone with a stranger. I just don’t think he’d have gone with somebody he didn’t know. Not without a fight. He was old, and mostly blind, but he wouldn’t have left the yard with somebody he didn’t know.”

  He drank deep. “Anyway, that’s not why I came by. I just wanted to get that out. It’s about this.”

  He hitched up his hips as he dug in the front pocket of his jeans. He pulled out a small silver earring in the shape of a Maltese cross. “It was in the cave,” he said.

  Nate took it. “You found this in the cave, with Galloway?”

  “Scott did, actually. I forgot about it. I guess we all did. He saw this about a foot from . . .” He glanced at Meg. “From the body. Sorry.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “He chipped it out. I don’t know why, something to do. He put it in his pack. By the time we all got off the mountain, the shape we were in, the hospital and shit, he just forgot about it. He found it in his stuff and remembered and gave it to me because I was coming home. We thought it was probably your father’s, Meg, so you should have it. Then I thought how it should probably go through the cops first, so I figured I should bring it to Chief Burke.”

  “Did you show this to Sergeant Coben?” Nate asked.

  “No. Scott passed it to me right before I left to come home, and I wanted to get home. I thought it was all right to do it through you.”

  “That’s fine. Thanks for bringing it by.”

  “I DON’T KNOW if it was his,” Meg said when she was alone with Nate. “It could’ve been. He wore an earring. He had a few. I can’t remember exactly. A couple of studs, a gold hoop. But it might’ve been his. It could’ve been something he bought in Anchorage while he was gone. It might have been . . .”

  “His killer’s,” Nate finished, studying the earring in his palm.

  “Are you going to give it to Coben?”

  “I’m going to think about it awhile.”

  “Put it away, will you? Can we put it away for tonight? I don’t want to be sad.”

  Nate slipped it into the breast pocket of his shirt, buttoned it closed. “Okay?”

  “Okay.” She laid her head on his shoulder, laid a hand over the pocket. “You can show it to Charlene tomorrow. Maybe she’d know. But for now—” She set her hands on his shoulders, boosted herself up again. “Where were we?”

  “I think we were over there.”

  “And now we’re here. And look! There’s a nice comfy couch behind you. How quick can you get me naked on it?”

  “Let’s find out.”

  He dropped backward, pulling her around at the last minute, so she fell, laughing, under him. Her legs were still hooked around him as she tugged his shirt out of his pants, scraped her nails up his back.

  “I expect you to ring the big bell tonight, since I’m an engagement-sex virgin.”

  “I’m going to work my way up to the big bell.” He unbuttoned her shirt, taking his lips on a trail down the opening to the button of her jeans. “Ring all the little ones on the way up.”

  “I admire a man with ambition.”

  She felt his tongue slide over her, his teeth scrape over exposed flesh as he peeled the jeans down her legs.

  She was going to marry this man. Imagine that? Ignatious Burke, with his big, sad eyes and strong hands. A man just packed with patience an
d needs and courage. And honor.

  She brushed a hand through his hair. She’d done nothing in her life to deserve him. And somehow that made it all that much more wonderful.

  Then his teeth nibbled along her inner thigh, her system shuddered and she stopped thinking altogether.

  He worked his way up her and down her, over her, around her, washed through with the knowledge that she belonged to him now. To cherish and protect, to hold up and to lean on. Love for her was like a sun inside him, shining strong and white.

  He found her lips again, sank into them, into all that heat and power.

  In some part of his brain, he heard the dogs barking, a frenzied cacophony that cut through the sexual buzz. Even as he lifted his head to tune into the sound, Meg was shoving him away.

  “Something’s at my dogs.”

  She sprinted out of the room even as he rolled off the couch. “Meg! Wait a minute. Wait a damn minute.”

  He heard something, something that wasn’t a dog, sound outside the house, and he ran after her.

  TWENTY-NINE

  SHE HAD A RIFLE and was yanking open the back door by the time he caught her. He made a leap, slapped the door closed.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Protecting my dogs. They’re going to get mauled out there. Back off, Burke, I know what I’m doing.”

  Too rushed for niceties, she rapped the butt of the rifle into his belly and was both furious and astonished when instead of buckling, he stood his ground and shoved her back.

  “Give me the gun.”

  “You’ve got your own. They’re my dogs.” A pulsing, clacking roar cut through the frenzied barks. “It’ll kill my dogs!”

  “No, it won’t.” He didn’t know what it was, but from the sound of it, it was bigger than any dog. He slapped on the outside lights, then picked up the gun he’d laid on her counter, pulled it out of the holster. “Stay here.”

  Later, he would wonder why he’d thought she’d listen to him, listen to reason. Be safe. But when he opened the door, his gun lifted, held in combat stance, she bolted out, ducking under his arm, whirling her body and the barrel of the rifle toward the sounds of vicious war.

  There was an instant of wonder struck into him, tangled with fear and a terrible respect. The bear was massive, a great hulk of black against the patchy snow. Its teeth gleamed sharp and deadly in the light as its jaws opened, and it bellowed viciously at the dogs.