Come Hell or High Desire

by Misty Dietz

  All over her. Melting her into oblivion.

  She touched her neck. “I haven’t…” Whatever she’d been about to say was lost when he stepped toward her and laid a finger on her lips.

  “‘You’re welcome’ would be an appropriate response. Or better yet…” His warm hands removed her hat, laid it on the desk, and then framed her face. She couldn’t look away. Couldn’t breathe. His eyes had grown dark. His thumbs traced a lingering brand across her cheekbones while those chiseled lips descended ever so slowly.

  …

  Zack felt Sloane’s body shudder when their lips met. She tasted even better than he’d imagined. And her skin, so fragrant. On his next inhale, she molded her body to his, pouring herself into the kiss until she’d tied him in knots. He reached back to untie the turquoise scarf from her hair, letting it spill over her shoulders in a golden curtain.

  He broke the kiss for a moment to drink in the sight of her. Parted lips, perfectly sculpted cheekbones, and heavy-lidded milky brown eyes that burned with more desire than he’d ever seen. This woman drew him—the quiet, hidden part of him. Why?

  He couldn’t think. He brought his lips back to hers, using his tongue to learn the secrets of her mouth until her breathy moans nearly rocked him beyond control. She gasped when he feathered kisses down the exposed column of her throat, his hands slowly exploring her hollows and curves until she trembled against him.

  “Please.”

  Her husky whisper pierced his lust. He stilled.

  Please, what? Take her to the cement floor? Holy hell, she made him lose his mind.

  His body rebelled while his mind struggled to overrule baser instincts. He buried his face against her neck and wrapped his arms around her body, feeling her tremors echo his own. They remained entwined that way for a few moments, their breathing slowly returning to normal. She shifted first. He didn’t want to let go, but he eased away.

  She wet her lips. “I’m not sure if I should be grateful or insulted that you stopped.” She looked down at his chest. Pink tinged the tops of her cheeks.

  How could any woman be so desirable yet doubt herself? He couldn’t be any stiffer. “You probably don’t want to hear me say I’m sorry, then.”

  A battle light came into her eyes before she tried to turn away. He cupped her face, forcing her to look at him. “No. I didn’t mean it that way. I meant…I—” He let go of her and grinned. “You made me forget where we are.”

  Her lips curved into a smile that sent new currents of awareness though his body. “Well, then, what do we do next?”

  About twenty different sexual fantasies came to mind, but man, he was such a douche. He was thinking about getting sweaty with Sloane while Ann was God knew where. He prayed John couldn’t tap into his thoughts. He cleared his throat. “You ever hear of a Colette O’Neill?”

  She stopped fanning herself with her hand. “Colette? Sure. She’s the senior pastor’s wife at Divine Shepherd Lutheran. I collaborated with her and a few others on the Hope for the Homeless project last year.”

  “You belong to Divine Shepherd?”

  “Heck, no. I’m Catholic. Go to mass every week.” She grinned, and he couldn’t help his answering smile. This woman had layers. Damn.

  “What does Colette have to do with Ann?” she asked.

  “Not sure, if anything. I reviewed my emails from Ann over the last couple of months and she mentioned Divine Shepherd in several of them. Colette O’Neill in particular. I thought I’d stop by the church to see if I can figure out a new angle.”

  “It’s almost eight. You think anyone’ll still be around?”

  “Aren’t churches always open to sinners?”

  One side of her lips lifted. “Not what I meant, wise guy.”

  “What I gathered from Ann’s emails, it sounds like an enterprising congregation. Ann has been on more than one of their committees. I guess I knew that, but I never really asked about her involvement.” Another sin to lay at his door.

  “Let’s check it out. I’ll call my contact at the Fargo PD on the way. Who knows, maybe the man in the vision is someone Ann met through church.” She grabbed her purse and thrust it at Zack’s midsection. “I need to grab something out front. You ditch me, and you’re in trouble.” She was gone before he even had a chance to respond.

  Left alone in the cavernous room, he tucked Sloane’s purple monstrosity under his arm, then realized it was the first time he’d ever held a purse for a female. Shaking his head, he tossed it onto her desk, the draft fluttering several photos attached to the bulletin board at the back of her workspace. He leaned in to look at one of the photos. Sloane stood between two people he assumed were her parents. She was a fascinating blend of both of them. Height and hair color from her father. Eyes and cheekbones from her mother.

  For the first time in a long while he wondered what it would’ve been like to grow up in a loving home. He’d never had any unconditionals.

  Except maybe trouble.

  Until John.

  His index finger traced Sloane’s feminine features, lingering on her generous mouth. She was tough, that he’d already witnessed and admired, but she also had a softness—a warm sensitivity that drew him even more than her luscious body. He didn’t have a name for the feeling that had settled in his gut since he’d met her. Nothing as simple as lust, though that was there in spades.

  Trust? A startling thought.

  Archie, Twyla, Morgan, and John were the only ones he’d put his trust in who’d never betrayed him. Even the foster “parents” the system had tried to force him on had let him down. Most had only wanted the monthly stipend. Or a scapegoat for their own kids’ shit.

  Whether they’d actually meant to use him or not, he’d run away from every one of those homes until the system thought they had him by packing him off to the Boys Ranch for at-risk teens.

  But he’d run away from there, too.

  The system had finally left him alone after that. He’d been seventeen, on his own, on the streets.

  He’d never considered himself lonely, but looking at Sloane’s captivating face in the photo, he wondered what it would be like to come home to someone like her. To hold her every night.

  To share their dreams and secrets as they shut the world away.

  Suddenly the future stretched before him, the canvas blank. His muscles tensed, and he swung toward the showroom entrance, heart vaulting into his throat. Sloane returned seconds later and froze.

  He pivoted toward the exit, putting one foot in front of the other, frustrated that being around her had instigated this restlessness. Then angry with himself for blaming her when she was only trying to help. He white-knuckled the door handle. “Ready, then?”

  When she didn’t reply, he glanced back. She hadn’t moved from the now-darkened showroom doorway, hands on her hips.

  “What just happened while I was gone?”

  He didn’t say anything. Her sandaled foot started tapping. He made himself meet her eyes. Alpha she-wolf eyes. Bad idea. He shifted from one foot to the other. “What do you mean?”

  “Nice try. You swing from hot to cold faster than a Finn goes from a sauna to a hole in a frozen lake. My great-grandparents did that, you know. For real.” She grabbed her purse and hat from the desk. “I’ll let you get away with it this time. But do it again, and I’ll be all over you.”

  He followed her outside as she adjusted her hat and kept walking until she paused beside his truck. She gingerly opened the door and climbed inside. After her shoulders dropped in apparent relief, she smiled, wiggling onto the seat.

  He couldn’t help imagining her doing the same thing on his lap.

  He readjusted himself in his jeans and made sure the storeroom door latched securely before he strode to his truck, trying to focus on what they might uncover at the church.

  And wondering how he was going to keep himself from peeling back layer after layer of Sloane until he found out what was at her core.

  Chapter Twelve />
  Sloane left another message for her friend, Fargo PD intelligence officer Pete Bartley, quickly stating the information they were hoping to find. With any luck, Pete would help them discover if any white Lexuses were registered in town, and if so, who held the titles. When she hung up, she slipped her phone into her purse and took in the scenery as Zack drove.

  Lacking the mature elm trees and old character homes of the north side, south Fargo was like an entirely different city with its shiny new buildings and strip malls.

  Divine Shepherd Lutheran fronted the new intersection of Twenty-Fifth Street and Ninety-Eighth Avenue, its whitewashed siding gleaming in the late afternoon sun and the domed, multi-colored glass windows drawing the eye up the soaring twin steeples. As one of the largest establishments in this part of town, Sloane thought it stood like a palace amid the ongoing construction around it. She looked at all the signs, but didn’t see anything with the Samuel’s Construction logo.

  “Do you have any projects down here?”

  “We finished that taco shop over there a few weeks ago, but nothing else right now. I’ve had to pull all my guys in for the finish of the mall’s new theme park. It opens on Tuesday.”

  Her hand gripped the passenger armrest. She blinked, then inhaled so hard he looked at her as they turned into the church’s property.

  Oh Lord. He was doing the amusement park?

  He was generaling the mall’s amusement park. Benjamin’s park. He works with Benjamin, and he knows what I can do.

  They worked together, but how chummy were they? Did Zack know about Benjamin’s granddaughter? If he did, and he thought about her psychic abilities, he might begin to piece it together. The tragedy.

  Her secret would come back to destroy her. God.

  The edges of her vision glimmered. Silver. Red. Narrow prisms of icy color that stabbed at the sides of her eyes. She blinked, trying to focus.

  She heard Zack talking, but when they rolled to a stop in the curved driveway, she yanked off her hat and flung open the door, staggering blindly to the curb, seeking a patch of earth. She collapsed on the newly placed sod and burrowed her fingers into the ground. Almost instantly, the wings of panic began to settle back into the shadows of her mind.

  Not five seconds later, Zack’s boots came into view. “Now I get why you wear blue fingernail polish. FYI, though, Lava soap and the curved file of a clipper work wonders to get the dirt out.”

  What? She glanced up to find him smiling, but his eyes…

  Made her throat tight.

  Why’d he have to be so nice? Made her want to fricking cry all the time. Reluctantly, she drew her hands away from the sod, brushed them on the blue linen shorts she’d changed into at the store, and started to rise. Zack grabbed her upper arms to help her, his touch bringing that now-familiar buzz which flushed out the last of the panic.

  “Thank you. I’m sorry, I…” She looked everywhere but at him.

  “You don’t have to apologize or even tell me what happened if you don’t want to. But if you do, I’ll listen.”

  Not this. She filled her lungs with as much air as they could hold, past caring that she looked like a puffer fish when she blew it out. “I guess I’m slightly off kilter today. That had nothing to do with what’s going on with Ann. I don’t usually have so much…energy exposure. After a good night’s sleep, I’m sure I’ll be back to normal.” She forced a smile.

  Zack tilted his head, the sun shining purple on his black hair. The contrast with the vivid green of his eyes was hypnotic. “Okay, but maybe I should take you home. What if you get, I don’t know—overwhelmed—by stuff inside? What then?”

  Yeah, what then? She’d never pushed the envelope of her exposure like this before. Besides, here was her chance to back off. To protect herself from revealing even more about who she was and how she’d failed the Benjamin family dynasty. Zack was now dangerous by way of his association with the holding company executive. Very few people knew about her abilities. Fewer still knew about her darkest shame.

  Her failed attempt to find a little girl the one and only time she’d tried.

  Benjamin’s granddaughter. Benjamin didn’t know. He’d never fund her foundation if he did. But hey, he wasn’t going to anyway if she didn’t find the rhino, so did it really matter?

  She took in Zack’s beautiful face, his kind eyes.

  Perhaps the rhino would still turn up. “Yeah, I…maybe I should go.”

  They both turned toward the driveway as a white Lexus jerked to a stop behind Zack’s truck. A well-dressed man slipped out and jolted when he noticed them standing on the grass. He recovered, calling out a practiced greeting, the whites of his teeth gleaming, before disappearing through the church’s imposing front door.

  Trim, dapper, movie-star handsome.

  Sloane’s blood rushed to her feet. “Oh, my God! That’s him. That’s the man who hurt Ann.”

  Zack sprang forward with a sound of rage, his face a mask of fury. Sloane scrambled after him, but tripped, her legs a pile of rubber, scraping her knee and palm on the decorative, stamped concrete. She picked herself up and entered the dimly-lit narthex.

  A series of doors lined the right wall, and a long, shadowed hallway lay to the right of the fourth door. Late day sunlight filtered through a stained-glass window, casting an almost unholy glow in the space.

  “Zack?” Her ears strained in the expansive silence, but she couldn’t hear any yelling or sounds of violence. Why then did her pulse throb so forcefully?

  Stay? Or go?

  Please don’t let Lexus Guy be a man of the cloth.

  She could go home, have a nice glass of wine and a bath, and forget this day ever fucking happened. She tucked her chin to her chest—genuflecting over thinking the “f” word—and saw a white dove with an olive branch in its beak, immortalized on the beautiful terrazzo floor.

  A symbol for peace.

  Oh, the irony.

  Time. To. Go.

  A far-away sound of shattering glass rent the air. She sprinted down the shadowed hallway until her knees jarred before an open door where Zack huddled on the floor near a dark-haired woman in a pink tailored suit. He was picking up chunks of colored glass while the woman held the wastebasket. Sloane put her hand to her chest and shut her eyes.

  “I’m really sorry. I’ll replace it if you’ll tell me where I can find another,” he said.

  Sloane’s eyes snapped open to see the muscles shifting beneath his T-shirt as he stood. He sounded too calm. Where was the rage she’d witnessed mere moments ago? And where was Lexus Guy?

  “Don’t worry about it.” The woman turned the full power of her brown eyes on Zack. With an elegant hand, she pushed at the hair that lay in perfect waves on her shoulders and leered at his chest, then lower. Sloane gasped, feeling her cheeks blaze. Zack swung toward her, completely blocking her view of the woman.

  “Ah, there you are. I was just telling Colette that we’re looking for Ann.” The calm modulation of his voice belied the warning in his eyes. “But, clumsy me, I managed to knock a vase off the desk before she could even respond.” His eyes held hers for a pregnant moment before he turned to face Ms. Perfect. “Sloane, I’d like you to meet Colette O’Neill. Colette, this is Sloane Swift.”

  “Of course, Hope for the Homeless. What a wonderfully successful project! So nice to see you again, dear.” Colette extended a manicured hand.

  Sloane coughed into the crook of her elbow. “Sorry, summer cold.”

  Colette’s gaze stayed on Sloane for several seconds though her head was shifting back to Zack.

  “Sloane mentioned how you spearheaded the back-to-work program for the homeless. Samuel’s Construction offered employment to many of your project applicants. Most are still with us today.” Zack’s easy smile was devastating, but Sloane was ready to launch with nerves. How could he be so nonchalant? Where’s Lexus Man? Come on, Zack! She slipped her hand behind him to pinch his butt.

  He covered his surprised laugh by
clearing his throat. “Ann tells me you and your husband have done a lot for the community in recent years. That was him running down the hall a moment ago, wasn’t it?”

  Sloane tensed, feeling the stillness in Zack’s body beside her. Colette pulled on the hem of her suit coat and moved to stand behind the desk. “Yes, that was our Dallan. Always on the run. I swear that man doesn’t know how to walk.” She laughed lightly, but it was all Sloane could do to remain upright.

  Lexus Man was a pastor!

  A wild squeal of disgust was working its way up her windpipe. Zack reached out to give her hand a hard double squeeze. Bones grinding together worked pretty well to stifle any revealing response. Her throat burned and, oh, her ticker was going to stop beating one of these minutes from shock. She turned sideways, concentrating on her breathing to forestall hyperventilating, pretending to peruse the shelves of religious books.

  Zack squeezed once more before releasing her hand. “Ann really enjoys working on your committees. Like I mentioned before, I thought she’d said she would be here tonight to help out with the Fall Festival. Or do I have my days mixed up?”

  Colette frowned. “The planning committee doesn’t have a meeting scheduled this evening, but I can pull up the calendar—”

  Zack held up a hand. “Don’t go to the trouble. I must have the dates confused. But, if she happens to stop by, tell her to turn on her phone for me, would you?” Zack winked, prompting a languid smile from Colette.

  “Sure. Dallan does the same thing. What’s the point in having a mobile phone, right?” She looked out the window briefly before turning back to him. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. I need to get home to make sure the kids have all their chores done so they can get to bed on time. Have a nice evening.”

  As they were leaving, Sloane saw Colette turn to look out the window again. She paused in the doorway and leaned forward enough to see over Colette’s shoulder out the window.